Altaica's Story
by Altaica
Summary: This is a very, very long CATS fic based on a made-up character of mine, Altaica. Most recent chapter-14 (BRAND new as of March 15). So yeah, please r/r!! I know that it's kinda long, but it'll all come together!!
1. Chapter One-Boston

Altaica's Story  
Part one-Boston  
  
Authors note: this is part one in a probably looooong story about a CATS character that I've made up: Altaica. All of the characters in this fic are made up since it takes place in Boston instead of London. The only mention of a CATS character is the mention of Altaica's cousin, Jemima. There will definitely be more fics about Altaica at a later date. Thanks! -Amber   
  
  
The slender queen hissed and jumped to a windowsill in a streak of black and white, the groping claws missing her by a millisecond. She didn't wait for her attacker to regain his senses but continued on, leaping to a fire escape and climbing quickly onto the roof. She raced across as fast as she could, leaping to the next roof, and the next, in a mad attempt to escape.  
  
But the inevitable soon took place, and five rooftops down she flew into a set of inky black arms. She screamed and her mouth was clamped shut by a black paw, a paw that smelled of tuna and catnip.  
  
She struggled in vain, and the paw over her mouth flicked out its claws, leaving four deep gashes around her white muzzle. Soon, they were moving, back along the route she had taken in her attempt to escape.   
  
So," her captor said eventually. "You tried to escape yet again, Altaica. Have you not learned? Will you never learn? I'll keep you as long as I want you, and currently that seems to be forever. Resistance is futile."  
  
They arrived back at the hated lair and he promptly took her to his "throne room" rather than to her cell. Knowing what was going to happen, as soon as he set her down she raced to the corner, huddling up in a small ball so that only a few streaks of black showed in her otherwise white fur. Her blue eyes watched him as he slowly, maddeningly made his was over to her, ever cautious.  
  
She knew that she was trying his patience, and she knew that it was a dangerous game, but it was all she lived for: to die, that is. She eagerly awaited the day that she would push him too far and he would finally kill her, death being the only true escape she could find from this prison she was in. It was a game she played willingly, much more willingly than the other games she was forced to play, as Engle's toy. That's all she was, as he and his henchcats had hissed at her on many occasions, a toy that could be knocked off the shelf and broken. Oh, how she longed to be broken.  
  
He finally reached the corner where she lay helplessly, reaching out a black paw to stroke her cheek. She hissed at him then, but he only laughed. "Ahhh, Altaica, how I admire your fire," he said quietly, stroking her tearstained cheek despite her protests. When his paw began to wander despite the small ball she was curled up in, she drew back and spat in his face.  
  
He blinked once or twice, surprised, and then his tone became dangerously soft. "If you didn't have your uses, I would dispose of you, you pathetic little whore."  
  
She sneered at him, although she was shaking inside. "I wish I didn't have my uses, you pathetic excuse for a cat!"  
  
He drew back and kicked her viciously in the leg. She uncurled rapidly with a small cry, and he continued kicking at her. She felt a rib crack as he dealt blow after blow to her midsection, and gasped and he picked her up to slam her back against the wall. Almost unconscious, she couldn't summon the strength to cry out as he put his plan into action, defiling her in the worst way possible.  
  
Some time later, Alta regained consciousness. She was still lying on the dusty floor of the throne room, bloodied and bruised. Judging by the shadows, it was almost four o'clock in the afternoon. A figure kneeled next to her on the floor, the red patch on his shoulder identifying him even though she couldn't see his face. "Ocenir?" she mumbled incoherently, trying to talk although her mouth was crusted over with blood.   
  
The patched tom shushed her quietly, still in shock at her condition. Engle had beaten her and harmed her before, but never this badly. "Why do you provoke him, Taica?" he asked quietly, using a moist rag to clean off her face. "You know all he does is hurt you more."  
  
She began crying now. "But that's what I want him to do, Cenir! That's the only way I'll ever get out of here...."  
  
He frowned. It wasn't the first time she'd talked like this, but she seemed so dead-set on it this time. "Shh, Taica, don't talk like that. You know that the Guards are trying to figure out a way to help...."  
  
She groaned as the pain set in. "I know, I know, 'Cenir. . . .oh, it hurts, it hurts . . ."  
  
He bit his lip and gently gathered her in his arms. She mewled in protest, but he merely shushed her. "I'm taking you to see the healer, he got you pretty badly this time," he said, walking out of the throne room. IN the hallway, he started jogging and then flat-out running to the guard's quarters.  
  
  
He cautiously moved aside the blue cloth that covered the door to the guard's quarters, trying not to shift Altaica too much. Stepping inside, he let the cloth fall behind him.  
  
"Whatcha got there, 'Cenir?" asked a large orange tabby lounging near the door. "Some meat from the butcher's?"  
  
"You could say that," Ocenir replied grimly. "Engle caught her again, Sarge. She needs Trista's help, badly."  
  
"Bloody hell! That's our Altaica?" asked Sarge, leaning forward.  
  
"Afraid so. Is Trista here, Sarge?"  
  
"She left to take care of a sick dame on the Third Floor. . ." Ocenir nodded as he heard this. The Third Floor contained Engle's private quarters...including cells for torture.  
  
"Typical of Trista. Problem, when need her HERE and NOW."  
  
Sarge stood and walked over. "How bad is it?" he asked, looking over Ocenir's shoulder at the bloody mass of fur that was Altaica.  
  
Ocenir shuddered. "Bad. I saw the whole thing through the spy-hole in the ceiling...he wasn't too kind."  
  
Sarge shook his head sadly. "Is he ever?" He wished that he could kill Engle at that very moment. He wasn't as close to Altaica as Ocenir was, but he couldn't stand to see any queen as bad off as she was right then. He felt nothing but pity for the petite queen who showed nothing but kindness to everyone she met, stopping in at the guard's quarters often. She made the place less like the pits of doom and more like a normal place simply by being there.  
  
"I doubt it. Let's put her down over here on the couch.... Careful, now . . ." Ocenir lowered Altaica onto a small couch with Sarge's help, and covered her over gently with a blanket. All the two could do after that was watch to make sure she was still breathing and wait for Trista to arrive.  
  
  
A small, brown tabby burst through the curtain some time later. Ocenir was on his feet immediately. "Trista! We need your help, it's an emergency!"  
  
The small queen rubbed her temples wearily. "Is it really? The queen on the Third Floor didn't make it, and I had to perform last rites, and you know how THOSE can be." Sarge nodded sympathetically, but nobody and nothing was going to make Ocenir give up.  
  
"It's Altaica," he said, gesturing toward the couch. "Engle got her pretty bad this time, Trista. It doesn't look too pretty."  
  
Trista groaned loudly and moved over to stand beside the couch. "Does that sick, twisted bastard ever take a vacation?" she uncovered Altaica and they heard her breathe in sharply. "Did either of you see what happened?"  
  
"I did," Ocenir said sadly. "She'd gotten out again, but he caught her just as she was running across the top of the building on the corner of Second and East streets. He brought her back here, naturally, and to the Throne Room. She ran to a corner, the corner under the spy-hole as we've discussed before, and she angered him somehow. He began kicking her and eventually threw her against a wall. I believe she was knocked unconscious or close to it, because she couldn't even struggle while he was having his fun."  
  
Trista shook her head sadly. "Then what?"  
  
"Oh, he left eventually and I got down there as soon as I could. I revived her and brought her here."  
  
"I see. Well, it isn't too bad. . ." Trista said as she set to work. "A broken rib....two, actually, some bruises and cuts and a minor concussion and the usual damage from whenever he enjoys himself...." Approximately an hour late, Trista was done and Altaica was just awakening.  
  
Alta squinted up at the three cats surrounding her bed. "Sarge? Ocenir? Trista? What are you guys doing here?"  
  
Trista smiled. "The usual, you know, cleaning up after your scraps with Engle." Alta shuddered at the mention of the name. "We have to get you out of here, Taica, before he does kill you."  
  
Alta's eyes clouded over briefly. "It isn't likely, is it?"  
  
Trista paused for a minute before slowly shaking her head. "No, it isn't, but the guys have been discussing something that might just work."  
  
Alta cautiously propped herself up on one elbow. "What's that?"  
  
Sarge smiled at the small queen. "Well, we all know that Engle takes his massage at two o clock on Saturday afternoons. That's the only time that his spies aren't out and about looking for runaways, instead they're looking for saboteurs. If any of them saw us, they could be paid off to....forget what they saw."  
  
Alta nodded slowly. "What's the escape route?"  
  
Ocenir spoke up. "Through the East Passage up to the roof, down to Beacon Hill on rooftops and down into the T station using the entrance on the next street. Follow the lines in the air ducts as close to the wharves as we can get, and then onto a boat to sail for London."  
  
Alta squinted. "London?" she asked, confused.  
  
"Your cousin, Taica. Jemima, was it? In London?"  
  
Alta nodded. "I remember. Is this job solo?"  
  
"No. Ocenir will be accompanying you," Trista said quietly. "All the way to London."  
  
Alta gazed at Ocenir in wonder. "Is this true, 'Cenir?"  
  
He bowed his head. "Yes, Taica. I have family in London too, and I can go to them after delivering you to the Junkyard."  
  
She nodded slowly, and then looked at Sarge and Trista. "But what about you two?"  
  
Trista smiled serenely. "There are others here in need of my aid, and I will continue helping them."  
  
Sarge cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I'll be Head of the Guard when Ocenir here is gone, and we're going to try and overthrow Engle... to allow for your return, Altaica, and yours, Ocenir."  
  
Alta's eyes brimmed with tears and she shot up to hug the two tabbies. "I'll be back, I promise," she whispered fiercly.  
  
Sarge hugged her back, followed by Trista. "Here...lie back down for awhile," Trista said quietly. "And then I'll take you back to your room."  
  
Alta subsided back onto the couch and allowed Trista to cover her with a blanket. Soon, she was fast asleep.  
  
  
He rest of the week passed quickly, and all too soon it was Saturday. Ocenir, Trista, Sarge, and Altaica went through the passage and emerged on the rooftop. Blinking in the bright sun, they sneaked past various guards at various postings along the rooftops till they got to Beacon Hill. Alta turned to Trista and Sarge on the edge of the rooftop. "Well....I guess that this is goodbye," she said, sniffling a little.  
  
Sarge shook his head. "Not goodbye, Altaica. Never goodbye. When Engle's gone, we'll send for you, and everything will be fine."  
  
Alta flung her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. "I'll always remember you, and I promise, I'll be back someday."  
  
Sarge let her go and looked at her one last time, memorizing her appearance. Then, he stepped aside, and Trista stepped forward to hug Altaica.   
  
"Trista, I promise you that I'll be back, I promise!" Alta said, hugging her friend as tightly as she had Sarge. They broke apart, and Alta stepped back.  
  
"Well, old buddy," Sarge said, clapping a paw on Ocenir's shoulder, "I suppose it's time. Take care of her for me, okay?"   
  
Ocenir nodded. "You and Trista take care of each other."  
  
Sarge smiled. "Don't we always?"  
  
And so, on that sunny Saturday afternoon, the four parted, and Altaica's escape was finally successful.  



	2. Chapter Two-The Journey

Altaica's Story  
Part two: The Journey  
  
Author's note: most of the characters in this fic are still made-up. Ocenir, Sarge, Trista, and most importantly Altaica belong to me, but Jemima, Etcetera, Electra, Mac (macavity) and all the rest who haven't been brought into this story yet belong to RUG. This is my second story in the Altaic series with hopefully more to come. Thanks!-Amber  
  
  
Alta stirred in her sleep as the boat rocked violently. It was always rocking, she realized as her eyes snapped open, but this time was different.  
  
She poked her head out from under the covers in the unoccupied cabin, sniffing delicately at the air. She glanced to the window for confirmation, nodded, and noted that it appeared to be just past midnight. She sank back under the covers and awakened Ocenir with a poke. "Yo, 'Cenir, wake up..." she hissed under her breath.  
  
The large, multicolored tom groaned quietly before opening one bright green eye. "What is it, Taica" he asked.  
  
She shuddered and hunkered down into the blankets once again. "Storm's coming, and it looks like a big one," she said, punctuating the sentence with a small shiver.  
  
He raised both of his eyebrows. "Let's think now, Alta. We're in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean during the storm season. There's bound to be one or two," he said, closing his eyes.  
  
She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm and flicked at one of his ears. "That doesn't mean I have to like it. I hate storms, you know that, 'Cenir! Besides, you know what I have to do when I wake up....talk."  
  
He raised a paw to the heavens without opening his eyes. "Believe me, I know," he mumbled, his face buried in the blankets.  
  
She flicked at his other ear. "C'mon, you sleep all day, and when I'm being a damsel in distress over here, you don't even open one eyes?" she asked jokingly. Her tone grew more serious as she continued, "But seriously. I hate storms. Especially out HERE, where there isn't any dry land to run to. Just dark, cold, deep, unforgiving water...lots of water..." she broke off, shuddering.  
  
His eyes flicked open as she stopped talking, and he saw her unspoken fears in her wide blue eyes. Easing himself onto his knees, he crawled over to where she sat and wrapped her in a hug, shushing her quietly. "Don't worry, Alta," he murmured, "These storms are usually flukes anyway. But just forget that you're in the middle of the ocean....pretend that the rocking is from a human child's cradle and that the sound of the waves is someone splashing in a bathtub, and if you want you can just walk outside and there'll be dry land under your paw-pads..."she buried her nose in his thick neck fur as he continued, "Think, the sun is shining outside, and the first robin is making his rounds on the Commons and soon there'll be cheers sounding from Fenway Park and everything's normal..." he trailed off as her breathing became deep and regular again.  
  
Careful not to wake her, he eased both of them back into the nest of blankets. Some time later, he hears her purring gently in her sleep, a soft, musical sound that blended in almost noiselessly with the waves and wind. He buried his nose in her headfur, inhaling he scent deeply. Adding his own deeper purr to the noise, he too drifted off.  
  
  
  
If the storm hit at all, neither cat heard nor felt it. It was nearly eight o'clock the next morning when Alta awoke suddenly, her stomach sounding out the reveille. She smiled as she noticed that her nose was still in Ocenir's fur and she poked him gently in the stomach. "C'mon, Sir-Sleeps-A-Lot, the storm's passed and there's leftovers in the kitchen calling out my stomach's name..."  
  
Ocenir lazily opened one green eye as he heard Altaica's voice. "Whassamatter?" he asked, his voice muffled by her headfur.  
  
"It's almost eight o' clock. Can you spell Breakfast, boys and gils?" she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Ocenir laughed and pulled away, straightening up to stretch.  
  
"I hear you," he said, dropping neatly to the floor, leaving a dumbfounded Altaica on the bed. She swiftly scrambled after him.  
  
They crossed the small room to the doorway. As he had done the past few mornings, Ocenir leapt lightly onto a table near the door. From there he jumped to the doorknob, wrapping his paws around it and using his weight to turn it. The door swung silently outward, and Alta scampered through. Ocenir dropped to the floor and followed her. The two pushed to door almost shut and headed for the kitchens.  
  
Some time later, they were munching on some leftover toast that the cooks had kindly left out for them. The crew of the ship welcomed the two felines with open arms, and didn't even mind that there were two extra mouths to feed. Altaica and Ocenir got plenty of attention and plenty of alone time, time to talk and such.  
  
All too soon the journey was over, and the two were scampering down to the docks and onto the dry land beyond. Altaica could hardly contain herself, spinning with glee at finally having the dry land under her paws. She knelt down and kissed the ground, making a big scene for a cat.  
  
Ocenir watched this show with obvious amusement, a large smile on his face. Alta was never one to be afraid to make a fool of herself, and now was no different. She lay on the ground for longer than she should have, and he began to get worried. Crossing over to her, he found her crying uncontrollably. Worried, he sank down next to her and gathered her in his arms, where she began weeping into his chest instead of the dirt. "Alta, what's wrong? We've made it. You'll be with your cousin again."  
  
She shook her head. "W-why d-d-does everything c-come down t-t-to g-g-goodbye?" she choked out.  
  
He hugged her tightly. "Taica, it isn't goodbye! When Sarge sends his word, we'll be going back to Boston. Remember? You promised....we promised."  
  
She looked up at his face then, the patched face that she held so dear. "Come to the 'yard with me, Ocenir....they'll take you in, I'm sure they will..."  
  
He shook his head sadly. "Alta, you know I can't. I'm not bound by blood to the tribe there, as you are through your cousin. I'd always be the outsider, and by your connections to me, you'd be defiled in their eyes. Besides, my friends are expecting me. But they live very close to the Junkyard, and I'm sure I'll see you sometimes. And don't forget, we're going back someday...."  
  
Alta clutched at his upper arms and buried her head in his chest again. "Someday..." she whispered quietly. She choked the rest of her tears down as they silently stood and made their way to the Yard.  
  
  
It was the longest walk that the two had ever taken, or would ever take again. Silently, for each was choking back their own tears, they made their way through London's busy streets and alleyways. They were constantly dodging humans and dogs and were incredibly wary of other cats, for when you've lived with Engle for the years that they had, you learned one thing: caution.  
  
It was sunset when they reached the entrance to the Junkyard, a guardhouse where the guard had apparently gone home for the evening. Through the fairly large entryway, they could see several old cars and one incredibly large tire near the center. Ocenir decided swiftly that it would be a good home for Altaica in the months that they would have to stay in this dismal city.  
  
Alta turned to Ocenir, the tears she had held in since they'd stepped onto land overflowing once more. "Everything does too come down to goodbye," she whispered helplessly. Everything that she'd ever known, horrid as it may be, had left her in the last month and now, the last remainder of her life was standing before her, and he was about to leave also.  
  
He hesitantly cupped her chin in one of his massive paws. "Maybe so," he said, his own voice choked with tears. "But even good-byes have their promises. We promised Sarge and Trista that we'd be back, and I'm promising you that I will be, and if we learned one thing with Engle, it's this: always keep your promises."  
  
She looked up at him still, her blue eyes pleading. "But we learned more than that....we learned never to trust anyone, ever, even if they are in your very heart. I love you with everything in me, Ocenir, but how can I be sure?" Her tears, hot and salty, spilled over his fingertips. Her voice trembled with the tears.  
  
"Be sure," he murmured quietly before leaning down to capture her lips with is. The kiss held more than just love, it held a promise, and Alta knew then that he would keep his. He pulled away and she flung her arms around his neck, hugging him as tightly as she possibly could. He gently dislodged her arms from his shoulders, and he pushed her towards the entrance to the Yard. She looked at him one last time, and then she slowly walked into the Yard.  
  
Ocenir memorized her appearance before turning and running from the 'Yard, running as quickly as he could to the apartment where he knew his friend made his home. When his friend came to the window and then opened the catdoor to allow Ocenir in, it was all Ocenir could do to stifle his tears. "So, Mac, how's the dreary London life?"  
  
  
Back at the Yard, Altaica slowly walked around to the Tire. She stepped onto it without really knowing why, and called out, "Jemimah! I'm heah! Ahn'tcha 'round ta greet yuawh goold ol' cuz?" the smaller kitten poked her head out of a silvery pipe halfway up a junk heap and skipped down it, racing over to the Tire.   
  
She giggled when she reached her cousin. "Alta, has you accent gotten worse?" she asked jokingly before turning back to the confused Junkyard and announcing, "Everyone, this is my friend and my cousin, Altaica."  
  
Etcetera wrinkled her nose. "She sure talks funny!" she said a little too loudly. Beside her, Electra poked her and hissed, "Mind your manners!"  
  
Up on the Tire, Alta raised a travel-weary eyebrow. "Who's da one tuawkin funny, kit, me oh yous?"  
  
Etcetera didn't quite know how to handle this, and so she brilliantly shut her trap. Jemima and Alta stepped down from the Tire to begin the arduous task of teaching Altaica everyone's name. She had been accepted, it seemed, and although she smiled and laughed and flirted with the toms, her heart was a few blocks over, resting with Ocenir.  
  
And so, the first of Altaica's Journeys was complete, and she had arrived at the Junkyard. She had no more plans and didn't plan on making any except for the promise she had made to Sarge, Trista, and lastly to Ocenir. After all, who knew what tomorrow would bring?  



	3. Chapter Three-The Junkyard

  
Altaica's Story  
Part three-The Junkyard  
  
Author's note: Look, I'm sorry if any r's are missing in some of the words but my r key is completely buggered and doesn't work half the time, so there's bound to be a typo or two. Altaica, Ocenir, Sarge and Trista belong to me, but Munkustrap, Mistoffelees, Demeter, Victoria, Macavity, Coricopat, Tantomile and...all the rest of them belong to RUG, so...don't sue me, please! PLEASE r/r!!! -Amber  
  
  
Alta stretched luxuriously in the sun. She had only been in the Junkyard for a week, and already she knew most of its secrets. She grinned naughtily and flicked into Tugger's mind unnoticed. Wonder if Bomba knows that he's thinking about Cassandra?  
  
She giggled to herself. Engle had of course meant more than his own little games to be placed under her list of uses. She had the talent to be able to read minds, and to track people from their auras. She carefully avoided the likes of Coricopat and Tantomile, and of course Mistoffelees. She enjoyed keeping her secret to herself, and the secrets she learned to herself also.  
  
One of her ears flicked to the right as she heard someone climbing to the top of the old Ford, where she was enjoying the sun's rays. She lazily opened one eye and saw Munkustrap, second in command of the Junkyard, standing over her. She hastily straightened up, dropping the invasion upon Tugger's mind with haste. Pasting on a smile, she purred, "Izzere ah prolem, Munkus?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow, accompanied by the amused smile that dotted the face of anyone who heard Altaica speak. "That depends on your idea of a problem, Altaica. Coricopat and Tantomile have seemed rather uneasy about you, as I'm certain you've notice." Alta bowed her head slightly at the mention of the Twins, and her blue eyes flicked over to the dark box where she knew that they were watching the scene. Her attention turned back to Munkustrap as he continued, "And they would like to examine you, mostly to discover if you really are telling the truth about, well, everything..." he watched Alta carefully, you never know when she's going to totally spaz.  
  
She matched his amused expression perfectly. "Ahnd why do dey think ah'm a fayke?" She wished, somehow, that Munkustrap could hear her unspoken questions louder than the one she said aloud, the way Ocenir always could. Ocenir....who knew if he was still alive? Sure, it had only been a week, but a week could be a death sentence in a city.  
  
She sighed and plopped down on the car trunk. "Heaviside knows, but possibly it's just that you're a foreigner and have come from a place remarkably like Macavity's lair...." Alta's eyes went wide when she heard the name. "What's wrong?" Munkus asked, slightly worried.  
  
"Ah....dis..Maycayvitay charactah....he don' hayve ah nicknayme, does he?"  
  
Munkus nodded, not even wondering why she'd want to know. "Many cats call him Mac, particularly the ones closest to him..." at this, it was all Alta could do to keep from flying off of the car trunk.  
  
In a slightly choked voice, she said, "Whasso bahd abowt him?" surely, Ocenir didn't leave Engle for another like him...oh, the irony....  
  
Munkustrap smiled grimly. "He isn't a bad as Engle, or at least, I don't think he is. We haven't had a cat escape his lair in awhile, so there's no way to know. He IS rather like the cat you just escaped, except that instead of being black, he's a shockingly red ginger cat. Avoid him if you can!" Munkus thought for a moment. "Um...what got us talking about Macavity?"  
  
"Corcopaht an Tantamile," Alta said in a faint voice. "Ah think I needs ta tuawk tah dem, anyhoo. Nevah got aquainted, ya know..." she hopped down from the car trunk swiftly and all but ran over to the cardboard box.  
  
  
She poked her head inside the box cautiously. She could feel the Twin's presence, and it made her uncomfortable. But she still crept quietly into the box, saying, "Well? Whaddya wahnt?" in her slangy abbreviated speech.  
  
Tantomile's face took on the amused expression typical to all of the cats in the yard (or the yahd) whenever they heard Altaica speak. It seemed that nobody was immune. "Merely to question you. It was a wonderful tale, what your cousin told us...since nobody could understand you. But there's more to it, of course....there's always more to it."  
  
Alta's eyes began to narrow into slits. "Ahnd ah always mayke ah pointa leavin stuff out, cuz it helps ya undahstahnd what kinda cats cehtin ones ah, to see if dey really pay attention. You twos ah de fihst ons tah notice, which dun suhprise me. But I ain't tellin yous oh no one else de rest of de story...though I suppose yous could find it out foh yourselves, couldn't ya?" she turned and stalked out. If they wanted the whole story, they'd have to dig a little deeper than that! As if she walked around spilling her secrets to strangers! Her eyes narrowed in her fury, she didn't notice the various cats scurrying out of her way.  
  
  
Still in the box, Tantomile let out a sigh. Coricopat was at her side in an instant, rubbing against her shoulder affectionately. "Don't let her bother you, sister. She'll come around eventually, and if she doesn't...well, there are other ways of finding out."  
  
She turned and glared at him. "You aren't honestly suggesting we PRY? That's dishonest!"  
  
He raised both of his eyebrows. "And what has she been doing? I know you can feel it also. She is not yet truly a Jellicle, it would be betraying nobody...."  
  
"Except her," Tantomile hissed. "I won't do it, I won't! Let her get settled here first, Bast knows she's only been here a week. Be patient."  
  
  
Outside, Alta was almost to the junkheap that contained her cousin's pipe when a cry cut through the air, a cry of "Macavity!" that caused Altaica to spin around.  
  
The cry had come from Demeter, as usual. Alta raced across the yard to where Demeter stood, near the tire, sniffing the air as she ran. Reaching the small black-and-gold queen, she helped her onto a chair and gave her a hug to ease her trembling. "Shh, deah, s'all right, he ain't 'eah. Everythin's gonna be juuuuust fine," she purred (puhhed?) She held the other queen till the trembling stopped, and then she helped her stand. Slowly, with every Jellicle in the 'yard watching, Alta helped Demeter over to the box where she knew Coricopat and Tantomile still were. Rapping lightly on the flap, she poked her head back in. "Ey yous two, ah got a lil favah tah ask yas.....Demetah 'eah's been smellin stuff on da aiah again, an she needs some quiet an rest, an I think dat yous two ah da ones tah give it to 'er. Whaddya say?"  
  
Corcio and Tanto looked to each other swiftly and held an unspoken conversation before nodding their agreement. Alta helped Demeter into the box, but before the slightly paranoid queen could voice her thanks, the white-and-black tabby had disappeared as swiftly as the Hidden Paw himself. Demeter shuddered and curled up in a corner, with Tantomile fussing over her.  
  
  
Alta had hardly gotten three feet from the box when she ran straight into Munkustrap. "Sorry, Munkus...ah wasn't watchin wheah ah was goin s'all..." she trailed off as he held up a paw to stop her.  
  
"I just wanted to thank you for helping Demeter out like you did. She's had a hard time, and none of us really know what to do when she goes into on of her fits. I don't know how you managed to calm her so quickly, it usually takes hours to get her calmed when she's on one of her kicks. So, as far as I'm concerned...you're a Jellicle now, Altaica." Munkustrap looked down at her with a solemn look totally befitting his silver-and-black tabby face. A face colored with markings exceptionally like Alta's.  
  
She grinned and gently punched him in the arm. "Chalk it up to experience," she said before walking off.  
  
Shaking his head slightly, he began to walk towards the cardboard box. However, he turned around when her heard Alta call out, "Hey, Munkus?" she smiled then, a warm, sincere smile, completely unlike the cheeky grin she gave to nearly everyone she met. "Thanks."  
  
  
It was raining that evening, water pouring from the sky like somebody had taken a knife and sliced open every cloud from London to the English Channel. And of course, Alta had been caught in the rain as she was patrolling the fence that surrounded the Yard, and by the time she got to the main section she was soaking wet and had no desire to scale the trash-heap to get to Jemima's pipe.  
  
She was standing near the Old Ford, attempting in vain to find a dry pipe or box to hole up in for the night when the sound of a claw tapping on the glass of the windsheild. She looked up, pushing sodden fu out of her eyes, to see Munkustrap and Mistoffelees holed up in the Ford thanks to the sudden storm. She jumped in through a holed in the side window, landing on the seat with a sneeze. Victoria poked her head in from the back seat. "Alta, you've caught a cold!"  
  
"Well, whaddya expect whed I'b havig a stupid bobent add I have do ideah wheah to go?" she whined slightly, her nose plugged. "WHY ID EV'RYONE LOOKIN SO DANGED AMUSED?" she cried, her nose unplugging for a moment. "Id isnt like ah tuawk fuddy!!!!"  
  
Sure enough, Victoria, Munkustrap, and Mistoffelees had identical looks of amusement on their faces, but Victoria swiftly wiped hers away. "Oh no, Taica dear, you d-don't t-t-t-talk funny at alll...." She collapsed into gales of laughter on the back seat, and Misto leapt lightly over the backs of the front seats to join her, leaving Munkustrap and Altaica in the front.  
  
Alta sneezed again, which caused Munkus to forget his amusement and grab a ratty towel from the seat. "Here," he said, "Let me help." He began rubbing her dry with the towel, ignoring the several holes and rips in the ratty fabric. Alta put up with the rubbing until her fur was almost dry, and she shooed the towel away. The towel-dry job had left her looking quite like a striped hedgehog, and so she set to work licking her fur back into place. Halfway through, she glanced up and noticed Munkustrap staring at her. "What?" she asked innocently, continuing her job.  
  
He started when she spoke, and she wouldn't have been surprised if he hit is head on the roof. "Huh?" he managed to stutter.  
  
"You were staring at me," she replied calmly (as the author gets sick of trying to duplicate a Boston accent...), alternating words with the cleaning job of her small pink tongue.  
  
"Was I? Forgive me," Munksutrap said, venturing a peek over the seat again. Misto and Victoria were curled up together in a purring heap of black-and-white fur. Munkus chuckled softly, causing Alta to ask again, "What?" he pointed wordlessly over the seat.  
  
Altaica, looking fluffy and clean again, peeked over at them and groaned. "Well, time to be the third and fourth wheels on their little love bandwagon," she said with a grimace.  
  
Munkus laughed softly and sank back onto the seat, closely followed by Altaica, who was stifling a yawn. "Tired?" he asked as she curled up on the seat.  
  
"You try running through trash in a rainstorm."  
  
"Been there, done that, don't want to try it again," he said, attempting to get Altaica to laugh and was rewarded by her soft, almost musical laughter.  
  
"Can't blame you," she said softly, punctuating the statement with another yawn. "Hate to be a rude guest, Munkus, but I think I'm falling asleep...."  
  
He smiled softly and curled around her. "It's alright, I think I am also....good night, Altaica," he said.  
  
"Night, Munkus," she said, drifting off into sleep, purring softly. He smiled and added his own purr to the noise, and they fell asleep in a ball of tiger-striped fur.  



	4. Chapter Four-The Confrontations

Altaica's Story  
Part four-The confrontations.  
  
Alta awoke in the morning to the sound of a foot tapping on the seat. She opened one eye to a slit and noted that Demeter was standing there looking royally pissed off. She nudged Munkustrap gently and muttered, "Someboday's awfully put out 'bout somfin...."  
  
He groaned in response and opened his eyes to see Demeter. "Hiya sweetheart," he purred with a sickly sweet smile. "Uh...is something wrong?" He flinched when she bared her teeth.  
  
"You could say that," she said, grabbing Altaica by the arm and pulling her out of the car. When they were a reasonable distance from the Ford, Demeter released Alta's arm and spun to face her. "I heard Corico and Tanto talking while they attended to me! You think I don't have ears? You were only being nice to me so that you could get me out of the way and get Munkustrap for yourself!!!"  
  
Alta frowned in confusion. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Back up heah. What did Corico and Tanto say?"  
  
Demeter sighed. "Something about how crafty you Americans are. How tight your operation was, helping me over to the box in such a show of kindness and then CONVENIENTLY ran into Munkustrap and then later curled up with him in the Old Ford!!! I can't believe you!!" she added, bursting into tears.  
  
Alta shook her head a little. "Dem, I'd nevah try tah tayke Munkus from yous. I know dat 'e's yuawh life. Ah'd nevah do dat to yous! Besides....well....ah'm kinda tayken."  
  
Demeter smiled through her tears. "You must work fast, eh?"  
  
Alta laughed. "No, no not here. Well, I mean, he's IN London, he's just not IN the Junkyard is all..."  
  
Demeter nodded slowly. "I understand. But..I don't know, I don't want the whole Yard thinking that...that..."  
  
Alta placed a paw on her shoulder gently. "Ah undahstahnd, Dem. And ah tink ah know how ta fix it."  
  
The black-and-gold queen hurriedly dried her tears. "How?"  
  
Alta smiled. "By nippin it in da bud." She winked at Demeter and started off, calling, "Oh Corciopa'....Tantamile...."  
  
Demeter laughed, shook her head, and headed back for the Old Ford.  
  
  
Altaica arrived at the box for the third time in the last couple of days. She dashed inside quickly and slammed the nearest Twin into a wall....Coricopat. "What....did....you....say?" she hissed quietly, holding him by his throat at arm's length off the ground.  
  
He couldn't say anything, of course, since she was holding him by the throat. He was a fairly large tom, and among other thoughts running through his mind, one was 'How the heck is she holding me up?'. However, Tantomile was there in a moment, frantically clawing at Altaica's arm. "Let him go!" she cried.  
  
"Will you tell me?" She had learned from the best, Coricopat realized. She knew just what cards to play when. Unknowingly, Engle had taught her well. Corico managed a slight nod, gasping for breath. She released him, and he slid to the floor in a crumpled heap. Tantomile rushed to his side before turning to hiss at Altaica.  
  
She didn't even flinch. "What did you say?" she asked again, sounding calm. However, there was an evil glitter in her eye....  
  
Coricopat gulped. "Merely that it seemed a little suspicious that you ran into Munkustrap and then curled up in the Old Ford with him and that he didn't protest..." he said, trailing off as Altaica leaned forward, looking very, very menacing.  
  
"Say that to ANYONE in this junkyard or out of it, and they will be ruined. You will too, if I hear of it and get my paws on you. D'you hear me?" she spoke very, very softly, razor blades edging her voice.  
  
Gulping, the Twins could only nod and watch as the striped cat left, radiating pure Fury.  
  
"Is it just me," said Tantomile cautiously, "Or does she lose her accent when she's angry?"  
  
  
Meanwhile, Demeter was making her way back across the Junkyard. A Junkyard that seemed very dark and cold all of a sudden... She shivered as an icy wind cut through her very skin, bringing a taste of the winter to come. She shivered and was about to reach the old ford when a lean ginger arm reached down and grabbed hers, pulling her away. She had time for one word-"MACAVITY!!!!!!!"  
  
Alta had just stepped out of the box when she heard the cry. She quickly scanned the junkyard, but while there was no sign of the "ginger tom", there was also no sign of a certain black-and-gold queen, either. She sniffed the air and scented something she hadn't smelled before in the Yard, yet was undeniably familiar to her. Fear rippled down her spine as she realized it....it was Evil, plain and simple, a sort of under-scent that Engle had carried also. She swiftly ran up the pile to the Old Ford, leaping inside in one smooth motion.  
  
She nearly landed on top of Munkustrap, who had been ready to poke his nose out. "What's wrong?" he asked, alarmed. "You're running like you have Macavity at your heels."  
  
If the situation had been different, she would have laughed at how close he was. "Mac....cayme...'e got Demetah...." She managed to choke out, breathing heavily from fright and from the run. Munkustrap's eyes widened and she continued, "Ah think ah know wheah 'e's takin 'er, but we gotta act fahst....time's of da essence." She turned and leapt out the way she came, with Munkustrap on her heels.  
  
"I'll get the rest, you start scouting!" he called as he sped off. She laughed to herself. Why scout when she knew where to look?  
  
  
She met up with the group of toms that Munkustrap had managed to put together three blocks over. It was just stating to rain. She shivered and sneezed as lightning forked across the sky. Munkustrap put a paw on her shoulder in reassurance, and she led them to the apartment that Macavity called his home.  
  
They got in through the cat door, Altaica leading the way. She calmly walked through the rooms that were littered with instruments used in Jellicle-and-stray torture, having seen it all before and having much of it used on her. She was immune to the shudders and wide-eyed stares of the felines behind her, completely forgetting that they had been rather sheltered.  
  
An extensive search turned up nothing, no Demeter, no Macavity, and fortunately no Ocenir. That had been Altaica's greatest fear, that he would be here and that the troupe behind her would attack. They were just letting themselves out of the cat-door when Altaica felt the familiar presence of the tribe's Conjurer in her mind.  
  
* So, Mistoffelees, what brings you to this neck of my mind? * She asked glumly.  
  
# Taica, you have to get back here quickly! A patched tom brought Demeter back, and he asked to see you. Well, Jemima brought him up to her pipe and he's still there. Trouble is, Macavity's come back and is demanding to see someone named Ocenir. Well, Etcetera's doing her best to keep him occupied, but you know what a dangerous game that is.... #  
  
* Gotcha. We'll be there in five. * She turned to the group of toms with a frown. "Bad news from the Yard. Macavity's back."  
  
The look on Munkustrap's face somehow told her that they would get there in less than five minutes.  
  
  
Altaica proved correct as the group raced back into the Yard two and a half minutes later to find everycat barricaded inside their homes, with Macavity pacing around, knocking things over. Altaica could see Jemima's frightened face peeking out from her pipe, and behind her, ever so faintly, was the familiar bulk of Ocenir. She could also see Demeter in with Coricopat, Tantomile, and Bombalurina, not in the box, but in a microwave that was set precariously atop the oven.  
  
The toms with her scattered to all sides, and Altaica remained at the center. She could tell that they wanted her to seek refuge somewhere, but she would refuse. Besides Munkustrap, she probably had had the most experience with cats like Macavity anyway.  
  
She crept closer, staying close to the ground. Several times his evilly red eyes looked in her direction, but through some strange twist of fate he didn't see her. When she was close enough, she waited for him to look into the junkpiles again. He did eventually, and in one motion she leapt to her feet and ran at him with all her might.  
  
She hit him full-force on the back, her claws fully extended. He let out a scream that would have frightened Firefrofiddle and started spinning, attempting to get her off. This merely caused her to dig her claws in deeper, attempting to remember certain pressure points that she had memorized long ago from one of Engle's books.  
  
"Back of the head!" She exclaimed, and in her lapse of concentration he threw her, but not far. She landed on her feet, taking most of the weight on her left side. She shook it off and prepared to charge again. She didn't bother waiting this time, but ran straight at him. One of his paws, talons of battleclaws extended, hit her in the stomach. She winced, but it was nothing that she hadn't experienced before. She determinedly scratched at him, him retaliating, until finally she dealt a blow to his eyes that caused him to drop to his knees. She swiftly leapt over his ginger-furred head, her own blood mingling with his, and hit him in the back of the head with the side of her hand. He instantly slumped forward, unconscious.  
  
The loss of blood hit Altaica hard right then, and her knees gave out, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she succumbed to blissful unconsciousness. Seeing her falling, two cats rushed forward to catch her. One, from halfway up the junkpile, was the patched tom known as Ocenir. The other was the silver tabby who had been able to do nothing except watch this slender queen defend a Junkyard that was hardly her home: Munkustrap.  
  
  
"Altaica," said a voice softly, beckoning. "Wake up..."  
  
"'Cenir, if you tell me that Engle was at me again, I swear I will punch your lights out," she muttered incoherently. Her eyes opened swiftly as she heard at least four cats laughing hysterically.  
  
It took a little time for her eyes to focus, but she smiled at the scene that met her eyes. She was lying down inside somewhere, she realized, for rain was once again pounding on the roof. She saw Mistoffelees caring for several wounds that SOMEONE had dealt to her, although she didn't remember whom. She saw Demeter and Munkustrap on one side of her, Ocenir on the other side. She then noticed that her paw was numb, possibly from Ocenir gripping it so tightly. "Yo, 'Cenir....blood in the paws is a good thing."  
  
He grinned sheepishly and loosened his grip. "Sorry."  
  
She sighed and let her eyes wander. She saw Coricopat and Tantomile tending to another cat a little ways away, a cat whose fur was covered in blood. Alonzo stood guard at the cat's feet.  
  
Munkustrap, seeing where she was looking, nodded slightly. "You got him good, Taica," he said with a smile.  
  
She sighed. "You should take him and leave him at the apartment. His master will care for him. Don't keep him here," she said, closing her eyes again.  
  
Munkustrap was about to protest, but bowed his head instead. "As you wish." He stood and walked over to where Alonzo was, and held a hurried conference. Soon, Macavity was well on his way home, and Munkustrap returned to Altaica's bedside.  
  
Seeing the grip Ocenir still had on the now-sleeping Altaica's paw, Munkustrap nodded slightly. "You may stay, Ocenir, for now, as you are a comfort to Altaica. But after she is well, we will have to hold a conference with the rulers and elders of the Tribe, to decide if you can stay." Ocenir nodded in agreement and obvious relief. Munkustrap smiled, and then turned to Demeter. "I apologize, but I have to go and see Deuteronomy about the events of tonight. I expect that he will be coming to the Yard soon." Demeter nodded, and he cupped her face gently in his paw. Then, he was gone.  
  
Alta smiled in her sleep and her eyelashes fluttered a little. She was dreaming now, Ocenir could tell, and she wouldn't wake till morning.  
  
And then, he decided, they would see where to go from there.  



	5. Chapter Five-Sorrow

  
Altaica's Story, part five-Sorrow  
  
Author's note: Okay, Altaica and Ocenir belong to be, the rest of the characters belong to RUG, so just...don't sue me! Eh....just...enjoy! -Amber  
  
Altaica awoke early, her eyes snapping awake and her breathing quickening, as though she was waking from a bad dream. They had left her while she slept, she realized, and for a moment she panicked, thinking that they hadn't let Ocenir stay, that they'd thrown him out into the street, where Macavity would surely kill him. She sat bolt upright, ignoring a shooting pain in her side, waiting for her vision to clear. When it was, she crawled on her hands and knees to the front of what proved to be a rather large pipe and looked out cautiously.  
  
There were several cats around the Junkyard, Tugger with his usual troupe of kittens, cats with human homes arriving occasionally, Cassandra and the twins lounging on the Tire, Jennyanydots and Jellylorum knitting by the Old Ford, and.....Altaica's breath caught in her throat. Munkustrap talking with Ocenir.  
  
She stood quickly, too quickly, her head beginning to spin. Another pain shot through her side in the same spot, and she knew that she must be sight. She felt herself sinking, falling onto the dirt. A furry black arm reached out to steady her. "Take it slow, Alta," he said, smiling as he helped her stand again. "Doctor's orders."  
  
She grinned wryly. "Izzat so, Doc?" she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice. The owner of the arm was none other than her doctor, Mistoffelees.  
  
He smiled. "I think I know where you're headed, so I trust that you don't mind if I come along?" of course he knew where she was headed, she realized. Stupid me! She threw up her mental shields, nothing strong, just a warning to keep out.  
  
She frowned. "Ya 'ayven't bin siftin deah too deeply, 'ayve ya, Doc?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head. "I know better. I've been helping Tanto keep Corico out, also...." She nodded when he said that. It made sense. "By the way, Taica, I meant to ask you something...."  
  
"Whassat, Doc?" she asked, glancing around the Junkyard once more. Why oh why did something feel amiss?  
  
"Why is it that your accent is so much worse than Ocenir's? It's so much thicker, and more pronounced. Just an observation," he added hastily.   
  
She smiled. "Ahnd a good 'un. Ah'm from da innah city, ahnd 'Cenir's 'riginally from da suburbs. Dat's why he doesn't got da accent. Pity, really, onna conna da fact dat my voice sticks owt like ah soah thumb, whateva ah soah thumb is ta begin with."  
  
He nodded. "It makes sense," he said, nearing Ocenir and Munkustrap. "Good morning, you two, we have a visitor..."  
  
Ocenir's eyes widened. "Alta, shouldn't you be resting? You look like you need it."  
  
She stuck her tongue out. "Tanks foh da complament, 'Cenir. Butcha know me, can't stay in bed foh a minute longah dan I want to...." He smiled and nodded, because it was true.   
  
Munkustrap helped her sit down. "You shouldn't be walking around, Alta, in your condition..."  
  
She stuck out her tongue. "Ah wasn't walkin, Munkus, ah was leanin 'gainst Misto heah....."  
  
Munkustrap and Ocenir frowned with identical "you're-acting-like-a-kitten" faces, and would have protested if Etcetera's cry didn't ring across the Junkyard just then....."Where's Jemima??"  
  
  
The four were over to her in a flash, Altaica moving a heck of a lot faster than she should have, but none of them noticed. With Macavity so much more ticked off at the Tribe and at Altaica in particular than he normally was, they couldn't be too careful.  
  
Etcetera was crying. "W-w-we were playing hide-and-seek," she wailed. "Me and Jemima. She was hiding, and I was supposed to come and find her. Well, we have a twenty-minute rule and you're supposed to call out, but they twenty-minute-rule time passed a good fifteen minutes ago!!! She isn't HERE, Munkus, she's GONE!"  
  
Alta went down on her knees, ignoring the pains in her side and head now as she gathered the crying kit in her arms. "Now, Etcy, don't cry....we need you to help us so we can find her," she whispered soothingly. Misto and Munkus exchanged looked over Alta's head. She had to be falling apart inside.  
  
"What we need you to do," she continued softly, "Is show us where Jemi usually hides. If we can pick up a scent from there, then we'll be able to follow it until we find her."  
  
Etcetera nodded, and, breaking free of Altaica's grasp, walked off towards a small pile of boxes and tires near the fence. She had none of her usual energy or bouncyness, The loss of her friend had hit her hard, Alta realized.  
  
The thought chilled her to the bone. No, she said to herself, reassuring. No, she isn't lost, she isn't.  
  
Munkustrap helped Alta stand, and they set off again, following Etcetera through the pile until they can to a small bookshelf.  
  
"She liked to sit in the little cabinet in the bottom and read some of the books in here," Etcetera said with a sniff. "She always hid here. Always."  
  
Mistoffelees nodded and patted her on the shoulder. "Etcy, it may be best for you to go back to the main Junkyard now," he said softly. The kitten nodded and was off.  
  
Ocenir picked up the scents immediately. "She was here, all right," he said, poking around in the cabinet. And she left....blimey..." he straightened up quietly, holding a small book of poetry in his paw. It was opened to a page, and the page was dotted with fresh blood.  
  
"Can't have been gone for more than twenty minutes," he aid, setting the book down carefully. Misto nodded.  
  
"There are three other scents. Two are just regular cats, alley cats, but one...well, one is....is..." he couldn't say it, he couldn't. The only thing he was wondering about was how he recovered from such extensive injuries so quickly....  
  
"Macavity." Her voice was flat and without emotion, as if every drop of feeling had run out of her body. No, it couldn't be, she thought numbly as she stooped to pick up the book. It couldn't be.  
  
She scanned the poem, reading only a few lines. It dawned on her then, and she knew where she would find her cousin. She turned and fled, out of the junkyard, running for the quaint church that sat in the distance, atop a hill.  
  
The three toms followed at a distance, worried, but not daring to tell anyone where they were going. They just watched the petite striped queen making her way through the streets, wincing every now and then.  
  
  
It was raining again by the time that she reached the church, a steady, pouring rain that left the four felines soaked. Misto, Ocenir, and Munkus watched as Alta leapt lightly onto the fence, padded along it for a distance, and plopped down on the other side. They went closer, saw her slumped against the fence on the inside, slolwy pulling herself to her feet.  
  
"I'll kill him" they heard her mutter before she set out into the yard. Among the rows....the rows of gravestones.  
  
The three swiftly jumped over the fence and followed still. She seemed to be looking for something, and they saw her halt before a small stone, a child's stone. Ocenir shuddered inwardly. He could picture it, had seen the same thing in Boston....small children, tiny infants, dead, deep in the ground....cold. Unknowing. Never to wake again.  
  
She let out a choked sob and fell to the earth, cradling something gently. They didn't need to be there to tell what it was, even in the half-light created by the storm, they knew. They knew.  
  
"Bast..." Ocenir said in a choked voice. Just yesterday she had hid him, helped him, smiled at him. And now...she was dead, like the child beneath the headstone.   
  
They walked forward now, forward to where Altaica knelt on the ground, sobbing, gently holding her cousin close for the last time. Her tears ran down her face freely, falling onto Jemima's already matted fur, mingling with the dried blood. She rocked back and forth, holding the smaller kit easily, whispering. "I'm sorry, oh my Bast I'm sorry, oh Jemi...Jemi...Jemi, wake up...I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."  
  
Ocenir frowned. What was she saying? He looked at Munkus, and they stepped forward more. Ocenir took Alta gently by the shoulders, while Munkustap cradled Jemima's body gently in his arms. Ocenir helped Alta to her feet, and she stood quietly, tears flowing down her face silently.  
  
"I'll kill him." Her voice was soft, deathly serious.  
  
"I-I beg your pardon?" Misto could hardly believe his ears. He thought that it was a trick, maybe, a trick with the wind or something.  
  
"I'll kill him. I swear it, I will." There was no trace of laughter in her voice now. No teasing, no accent...nothing. She had turned to a shell, a hardened shell, without emotions. She turned, grimaced once, and was walking back to the fence.  
  
  
  
It was a somber procession that re-entered the Junkyard, Mistoffelees first, head hanging, tears shining on his cheeks. It shocked the cats to see him that way, he was never down.   
  
Ocenir and Altaica were next. The patched tom carried Alta gently in his arms, and she kept her face turned toward his strong chest, soaking both of them with tears. His own fell soft and gentle on her head, fewer than the rest of theirs, for he had hardly known Jemima. Still, he cried, he cried for the loss of a sweet, innocent, kind child. Lost forever.  
  
Munkustrap was last, carrying Jemima's limp form in his arms. A gasp went through the Junkyard then, as Munkustrap lay her down gently on a ratty couch, closing her large, brown eyes for the last time.  
  
It was all she could bear. Alta took off then, tearing herself from Ocenir's embrace and running across the junkyard, forgetting her injuries, running blindly. Her tears flew behind her, she scaled the junkpile and entered the tiny cabinet in the bottom of the bookcase. Shakily, she picked up the book, and she began to read.  
  
  
From Jemima's book of poetry---  
  
"The daisy follows soft the sun,  
And when his golden walk is done,  
Sits shyly at his feet.  
He, waking, finds the flower near.  
"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?"  
"Because, sir, love is sweet!"  
We are the flower, Thou the sun!  
Forgive us, if as days decline,  
We nearer steal to Thee---  
Enamoured of the parting west,  
The peace, the flight, the amethyst,  
Night's possibility!"  
-Emily Dickinson  
  
  



	6. Chapter Six-Abduction

Altaica's Story-Part six-Abduction  
  
Author's note:This takes place IMMEDIATELY after #5. I own Altaica and Ocenir, L and Mell own Ruffles and Truffles and would kill me if I didn't portay them correctly. The rest of the characters belong to RUG. -Amber  
  
  
  
They hadn't come to get her.  
  
Altaica stood numbly, staring at the small grave. Small grave, small bones, small life. She was gone, she realized then. Gone, and all she could do was stare. Stare, and question, and wonder. Wonder and think. Think horrible, horrible things.....did she cause this?  
  
An anguished cry burst from her lips as she fell to the ground, pounding on the soft earth with her fists. "Why, why, why?" is what she screamed. She knew the whole Junkyard heard her, and somehow she knew that, subconsciously, they blamed her. The kit had been loved, and she was just a relative. And it was her fault.  
  
She ceased her pounding then, as if the ground had turned to glass and the pressure of her fists would shatter it. Shatter the ground, cause the bottom to fall out of the world. It had, she realized then. The bottom had fallen out of her world. She had been around death all her life, she had hoped for it, she had longed for it, she had lost. She clutched at the ground now, dirt sifting between her fingers, as if the law of gravity would be repealed and she would float away.  
  
She did not know how long she was laying there. The sun was setting and the moon rising. Oh, how Jemima had loved the moon. Choked, in her smooth alto completely unlike her cousin's soprano, she sang-  
  
"Moonlight, turn your face to the moonlight, let your memory lead you, open up, enter in. If you find there, the meaning of what happiness is, then a new life will begin," is what she sang. She knew that it was her cousin's favorite verse.   
  
She didn't even have the heart to cry out when someone took her from the grave, just wanting to leave. Wanting, for the first time since she had left Engle's lair, to die. She closed her eyes, willing herself into unconsciousness.  
  
  
When she came to, she found herself in the apartment where she knew Macavity made his home. Strangely enough, she felt no fear, just a bitter flame curling around the edges of her gut. She remembered what she had said at the graveyard....."I'll kill him." She had felt nothing but fury then, but now was different. Now, she just felt sadness. She didn't want to kill, and she knew, somehow, that she couldn't. But she also knew that if she had to, she would.   
  
There was no time to think about it now. She heard footsteps in the hallway, and soon the door flew open, the tall ginger tom entering. She noticed the club he carried, automatically noting the size and material. She backed up slightly, hissing. "What do you want?"  
  
He smiled evilly, red eyes flashing. Munkustrap was wrong, she realized. Macavity was as horrible as Engle. "Merely to get to....know you a little better," he said, contempt lacing his words. She noticed that he limped now, and that his eyes squinted. She smiled inwardly. He would be wearing those scars forever.  
  
"Get away from me." there was nothing like honesty. She knew that, under normal conditions, she could beat the stuffing out of him. However, she had the injuries to her ribs and arms healing, one of her legs was shaking, and she hadn't had anything to eat since before Jemi disappeared. Her eyes slid around the room, calculating. Yes, she decided, she could get out if she needed to.  
  
He laughed quickly before grabbing her and throwing her against the wall, much like Engle had done back in Boson. Except, Alta thought to herself as she hit the wall with a groan, That wall was cement.  
  
She slid to the ground, groaning inwardly as she felt her ribs grinding together again. She assumed a defensive position, ready to spring although her old wounds had opened up and she could feel the bruises forming. She growled low in her throat. "You don't listen, do you?" she asked, smiling wickedly with a flash of fang. She saw him flinch.  
  
He chose to ignore her statement and instead walked forward, although warily. Her claws were out and were gleaming wickedly in the sun. He tapped his palm with the club a couple of times before putting it down against a wall. With his back to Alta, he picked up a short length of chain and turned swiftly, swinging it out.  
  
Alta cried out and tried to jump out of the way, but the chain connected with the side of her head and she slumped to the floor limply. She wasn't completely unconscious yet, and she was painfully aware of all that Macavity was doing. She felt herself being picked up and thrown once more, somewhere cold, with a hard floor. She skidded a little, connecting again with a wall and, finally, passing out.  
  
  
Back in the Junkyard, Ocenir was sick with worry. Seeing Munkustap pass, he stopped him. "Munkus, have you seen Altaica?"  
  
The silver tom frowned. "Not since the other night. I thought you were with her!"  
  
"I thought Misto was with her!"  
  
The two looked at each other silently for a moment. "Search parties?" Ocenir suggested tentatively.  
  
Munkustap thought for a moment before nodding. The two split to gather a group of toms for the search.  
  
  
Ocenir stopped when he saw a pair of eyes in the shadows. A ginger paw motioned to him, and he looked around before following.  
  
"What did you do with her?" he hissed as soon as the long-furred ginger cat came into view. "Where is she?"  
  
Macavity held up a smug paw. "You'll only get to her if you come alone."  
  
Ocenir paused, wondering if he should tell someone where he was going, until he realized that he didn't know where he was going. He shook his head and followed Macavity.  
  
  
It was near dusk when Macavity dusted off his paws. The patched tom had fought bravely, but he was a traitor, and Mac didn't handle traitors well. He scratched at the tom's still body a couple of times for spite before leaving him in the bottom of the shallow ditch. The rain that the weatherperson had forecast for tonight should finish him off, if he wasn't dead already. Whistling, Mac headed back for his apartment and a little post-fight festivity.  
  
  
Back in the Junkyard, Munkustrap realized that Ocenir was missing, too. They didn't have to search far, because it hadn't begun to rain yet and Coricopat easily picked up his scent. They found him, his breathing shallow, in the bottom of a ditch near the park. Coricopat and Alonzo took him back to the 'Yard while the rest of the search party continued looking for Altaica.  
  
Misto tapped Munkustrap on the shoulder. "I think we both know where she is."  
  
"The apartment?"  
  
"The apartment."  
  
  
Alta screamed as she ducked to the side once more, causing the ginger tom to slam painfully into the wall. Breathing hard, she inched her way backward, feeling behind her with her arms. He was getting up now, and he looked murderous. He didn't rush this time, but walked slowly forward, pushing her against the wall. He traced along her jawline with a claw, drawing blood. She shuddered and pressed against the wall, screaming again when he grabbed her.  
  
She knew what was going to happen, she'd been through this time and time again. She was bracing herself, wondering whether to strike out or to submit, when the door burst open in a flash of blue light. The room filled with smoke, and Macavity released her. She sank to the floor, coughing, trying to clear enough space to breathe.  
  
The smoke cleared, revealing several toms from the Tribe in a semi-circle, Mistoffelees with his paws sparkling. Clutching at a gash in her side, Alta tried to slow her breathing down again, wincing as she felt the ribs move, gasping when she felt the bone through the cut. Her head was swimming, and it was a good thing she was already down, for a fall to the floor would surely finish her off. She paid no heed to the battle, because her vision was being taken over by blackness. By the time Macavity was captured, she was completely unconscious,  
  
  
She was nearly dead when they carried her in, and Misto was working on her for over an hour before he managed to mend her torso alone. One of her lungs had collapsed and at least half of her ribs were broken. She had had some damage to her throat as well, and he wasn't sure if she would talk again.   
  
Ocenir was fine, loss of blood had accounted for his being unconscious when they found him. He had known how to twist around so that Macavity missed his original targets, and within an hour he was up and about, annoying the Tribe to no end to learn about Alta's condition. As soon as he was allowed in, he was at her side in a flash, waiting for her eyes to open.  
  
  
A week later, Alta was up and about, although, just as Misto had predicted, she couldn't speak. Watching her pantomiming requests and conversation was truly hilarious...she wasn't too talented at charades. But then, one day, about three weeks after the abduction, two shouts of "He-llo!" were heard from the entrance.  
  
They came from two small-ish kits, one red with a mane, and one patchworked brown, who proved to be rather loud an obnoxious. "Uncie Tuggy-wuggy-wuggy-wuggy-wuggy-rum-tum-tugger! We're heah, y'all!" cried the patchworked one.  
  
Tugger groaned and tried to hide under the Old Ford, but, of course, the kits caught up with him. "Uh, guys," Tugger said weakly. "These here are my..somehow related to me relatives...Ruffles," the one with the mane, "And Truffles." the one who had somehow gotten her head stuck in a jar. Already.  
  
While Truffles was running around with the jar on her head and nobody brave enough to take it off for her, Ruffles covered her paw in glue. "Uncie Tuggy! Do you like gluuuue?" she asked, sticking her paw to his ear. "Stronghold's the beeeeeeest!"  
  
Tugger groaned. "RUFFLES! take your paw out of my ear!!!"  
  
Ruffles pulled and Tugger almost lost an ear. "On second thought, Uncie Tuggy, don't use Stronghold. It's more trouble than it's worth!"  
  
Tugger whined. "You're telling me! You aren't the one that has...YOU stuck to my head!!!"  
  
And on that day, Altaica laughed.  



	7. Chapter Seven-Memories

Altaica's Story-Part Seven-Memories  
  
Author's note:Alta, Sarge, Ocenir, and Trista belong to me, Ruffles and Truffles belong to L and Mell. There will probably be a few typos in here since my keyboard is the most buggery thing on Earth. The rest of the characters belong to RUG. Thanks!-Amber  
  
The recovery was slow, and few things could make Alta laugh during it. One of those things (well...two of those things) were Ruffles and Truffles. The two were always moving, always causing some sort of mayhem or destruction. They were doing this on the day that Mistoffelees stopped by Jemima's old pipe.  
  
Alta had moved into her cousin's home after her death, taking comfort in the few possessions. The book of poetry and two others, a comb with a few missing teeth and several pieces of Jemi's silky fur still stuck in it, a shard of a broken mirror, a collar, two catnip mice, and a soft blue silk ribbon were still in there. A once-yellow rose, browned with age, brittle and dry, which was placed carefully on a small shelf. It was still Jemima's pipe as far as Alta was concerned. She just slept there, pausing to touch the precious items gently, reading a poem or two before going out to the rest of the Junkyard.  
  
She was sitting on a blanket, cradling the ribbon in her paws, when a polite tap on the side of the pipe made her ears perk up. "Come in, Misto," she called out softly, because the tuxedo was one of few polite enough to knock, and the only one who could get up without attracting her attention.   
  
He stooped over and entered, causing Alta to place the ribbon back in its spot and stand. He looked uncomfortable, as if he was there delivering a message that he didn't like. She caught onto it almost immediately, asking, "Whassa matta, Misto?"  
  
He bit his bottom lip and sighed. "Look, Alta, I don't want to have to say this.....um...maybe you should sit down...."  
  
She plopped onto the blanket again with a wry grin in place. "Ya didn't wanta tell me ta sit down?"  
  
He could tell that she was worried, she often joked to cover up her fear. "No, no, not that. You see....well....oh, where should I begin?"  
  
"At da beginnin, dat usually works foh me."  
  
He sighed. "Well, you see, Alta...some of the elders no longer trust you-"  
  
"Like dey eva did," she said bitterly. He nodded and continued.  
  
"Yes, well, since Jemi's death they've gotten more suspicious. They want me to....well...examine your mind, your memories and thoughts, and have Coricopat do a check after I do to make sure I'm not lying. Now, I wouldn't do that if you didn't want me to, but..."  
  
Her eyes narrowed into slits as she stared at the opposite wall. "Like I have something to hide," she said flatly. "Like I wanted to kill my own cousin."  
  
He nodded uncomfortably. "Well, you know Jenny and Jelly, and...well...Tantomile told them something, I'm not sure if it's true or not...about you holding Coricopat off the ground by his throat?"  
  
She bit her lip and flushed. "I only did it for Demi! For her and Munkus. They were two of the few that accepted me, and nobody messes with my friends."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "I see. Well, the other message is....look outside." Before she could say anything, he disappeared.  
  
She sighed and ran her fingers through her headfur. Great. Now Misto thought she was a brute, half the Junkyard was trying to throw her into the streets, and....something was going on outside.  
  
She poked her head out and nearly died laughing. Below, Truffles was holding a can of spray paint while Ruffles repeatedly whacked Tugger with a stick.  
  
"Uncie Tuggy! STAY STILL! How do you expect us to paint you pink if you don't co-opy-opy-opy-operate?"  
  
"I DON'T, that's how! OW! RUFFLES!!!!" Tugger was trying to run away but failing miserably as Ruffles whacked him in the thigh with the stick.  
  
"But you'll look jus' dahlin, daaaaaaaahlin!" Truffles drawled in a fake Southern accent, following Tugger's movements with the spraypaint.  
  
Alta shook her head and climbed down the junkpile. "Now, c'mon Ruhffles, Truhffles...stop paintin Tugger pink. Paint someone funniah pink...like Coricopa' oh Munkus...."  
  
Truffles stopped spaying Tugger for a second and regarded Altaica with squinted eyes. Then she turned back to Ruffles. "Y'all, we got another subject, y'all!!!" she bounded away with the can between her teeth, Ruffles following. Alta laughed as Ruffles hit Truffles on the head with the stick.  
  
Tugger was left standing, half pink and completely annoyed. "I owe you one, Alta," he said, trying unsuccessfully to pull some of the paint out of his fur.  
  
She laughed. "Anytime. Now ah gotta go an make sure dey don kill Coricopa' or Munkus...." She sauntered off, leaving Tugger chuckling slightly as he left to find Bombalurina. There was something about her, he mused as he walked around, trying to ignore the stares and laughs of the other Jellicles as "The Tugger" walked around with his...er...color change. Something about her that was different than any other queen he had met before.  
  
Shrugging, he found Bombalurina and started cleaning off the paint before it had a chance to set.  
  
  
Alta was escorting a slightly sheepish Ruffles and ruffles back to the yard. They had managed to paint Alonzo gold and were about to start in on Cassandra when Alta caught up to them. They would never spray paint their "Auntie Altie" (well...not much anyway) so when she told them it was time to leave, they followed.  
  
"Now, spay-painting Tugger or Corico or Munkus is one thing, they'd never hurt a couple of kittens. But Cassandra wouldn't hesitate to slit your throats if you so much as ruffles a hair of her coat," she lectured half-heartedly. She was the only one who would put up with the kits, and her mind was elsewhere. She knew that if Misto and Corico found something worth reporting, not only would she be kicked out, but nobody would watch out for the kits anymore either.   
  
Truffles just giggled, but Ruffles gasped. "TRUFFLES! There's a big weird thingy over by the fence-like object!!!"  
  
Truffles's eyes went wide. "A big weird thingy? Oh boy oh boy y'all!!!" The two scampered off, leaving Alta standing there, shaking her head. Most likely, the big weird thingy was a bit of lint. She began to walk back to her pipe, stopping when Ocenir tossed her a small ball.  
  
"C'mon, Alta, we need a shortstop!!!"  
  
She laughed and caught the ball, spinning to peg Tumblebrutus as he rounded the "bases". It was good old-fashioned American baseball, and they played until dusk. They would have played longer, but Ruffles and Truffles returned with the big weird thingy, which turned out to be a new stick which they dubbed the "you're being an eejit stick". They dubbed baseball as "Eejit-like" and the game quickly broke up.  
  
  
That evening, Misto came again to Jemi's pipe to see Alta. He brought Munkustrap and Coricopat with him, just in case a memory upset Alta and she needed to be restrained.  
  
Misto made sure that Alta was comfortable before giving her the outline of what he would be doing. "You'll be re-living those memories again, and it's important to remember that if need be, your eyes will open and you'll be safe in this pipe with us. Just close your eyes now...." She did, and Misto's voice faded away as she remembered the first thing that she allowed herself to: the first escape from Engle's lair.  
  
She refused to think of anything before that day, because she was a naïve little kitten then. She didn't understand anything, and she didn't want to look at herself when she was as innocent as Jemima had been. It only reminded her of the full extent of Engle's brutality, and how different her life might have been.  
  
Misto felt Corico's presence join his own and he nodded slightly. It was better to only make her go through this once if they had to at all. They watched, horrified, as memory after memory played through her mind like movies on a screen.  
  
The younger Altaica, hardly out of kittenhood, scrunched up against the wall as one of the spies passed. As soon as the black Tom had gone pat her, she bolted out from the shadows, utterly thin and utterly miserable. Then she was falling to the side as another shape hit her with great force. Misto and Corico cringed as they heard her hit the pavement with a sickening -crunch-. Something was broken.  
  
She was backing away now, pushing herself backward on her butt with the second shape following her, facing forward. Soon, she had backed herself into a wall, and the shape loomed over her. They saw a glint of evilly yellow eyes before a paw delivered a vicious uppercut to her jaw, sending her flying. Tears glinted on her cheeks as she lifted her head up slightly, only to take another blow to the back of her head, rendering her unconscious.  
  
The larger, darker cat stooped over and picked her up roughly. "Shadow, keep guard at the door. She's going to pay for trying to get out this time."  
  
The first black cat nodded. "Sure thing, Engle."  
  
The memory cut off there, as if the rest was too painful for her to remember. Misto and Corico thought that they had an idea of what would have happened inside, even without seeing it. Misto didn't think he'd have been able to watch without throwing up, anyway. Macavity was bad enough, but this cat.....  
  
They saw more memories of that kind, complete ones. Corico had to clamp a paw over Misto's mouth in the physical world to keep him from throwing up. As it was, the dark calico wasn't feeling too great, either. They saw memories of what Engle had done to other cats and to his own Guards, showing mercy to no one, particularly Altaica. She was a tool he used constantly, using her magical talents for the constant "war" against other street cats. He used her for other...things...on the side.  
  
They finally saw the memory of the day that she escaped with Ocenir, and they heard the promises she had made to Trista and Sarge. They saw the journey and tearful goodbyes, and then the memories were all of the Junkyard and far more pleasant than the ones of Boston. They discovered nothing except for one thought that she had had when fighting Macavity the first time..."Bet Engle doesn't know that his toys learn better than his guards...."  
  
It took Misto and Corico some time to get Alta out of the trance. She was literally living in her mind now, and, judging by the tears on her cheeks, she had gotten to where Jemi died. It took a firm shake and a light slap from Munkus to get her eyes to open.  
  
"That was awful," she moaned, rubbing at her eyes. "And now you know why I never discuss it."  
  
Munkustrap just looked confused, but Coricopat and Misto nodded solemnly. After warning her to rest, they left, leaving her in peace. She picked up Jemi's book of poems and opened to a random page, reading the first thing that she saw.  
  
"Because I could not stop for Death,  
He kindly stopped for me.  
The carriage held but just ourselves  
And Immortality."   
  
There was more, but she stopped reading there. And she began wondering...would she be forced to leave the sanctuary of the Junkyard?  
  
  
In the Old Ford, which was serving as an emergency conference room, Misto and Corico filled Munkustrap in on what they had seen, leaving nothing out.  
  
"She never thought anything about harming ANYONE that wasn't Macavity, Engle, or one of his guards. She would never have wanted her cousin killed in the first place!!!" Corico said fiercely.  
  
"I think that Jelly and Jenny and the rest are just a tiny bit misguided," Misto said seriously. "There were many thoughts about how much she loved everyone here, and many more about Ocenir, Sarge, and Trista. She may be here and love us, but her heart belongs to Boston."  
  
Munkustrap nodded. "But she can't go home until Engle is gone. How will she know?"  
  
"Sarge gave his word. Trista too. And Alta and Ocenir promised to return."  
  
Munkustrap nodded. "So be it. The day will come and we will be sorry to see her go, and until then she stays here, no matter what certain Elders think."  
  
The three toms nodded and split up.  
  
  
"Auntie Altie! Auntie Altie! Ah iz stuck, y'all!!!"  
  
Altaica laughed as she poked her head out of the pipe. Sure enough, Ruffles had somehow wedged Truffles in a fishbowl and was rapidly filling it with water. She walked over, plucked Truffles out of the bowl, and set her on the ground. "Now, you know what I told you," she said in a mock-exasperated voice.  
  
"You told us something?" Ruffles asked, cocking her head quizzically.  
  
"Yes, Ruffles. Don't beat each other up, beat Tugger up instead."  
  
"YE-ES!!!!!" a soaking wet Truffles exclaimed. "To annoy Tuggah, y'all!!!!" the kits were off again.  
  
She shook her head slowly, laughing, and returned to the pipe. Jemi's blue ribbon had been placed as a bookmark in one of the pages of the poetry book. Curious, she picked the book up and flipped the book open.  
  
"That I did always love,  
I bring thee proof:  
That till I loved  
I did not love enough.  
  
That I shall love thee always,  
I offer thee  
That love is life  
And life hath immorality.  
  
This, dost thou doubt, sweet?  
Then have I  
Nothing to show  
But Cavalry."  
  
She frowned, and then smiled, but frowned again. Who had marked the book in her absence?  
  
Shrugging, she turned to sit at the mouth of the pipe. It was her evening ritual to sit there with perhaps a chipped mug of cream, watching the sunset and the activity below. She started a little as she saw a figure standing there. "Hey, 'Cenir. Want to watch the sunset with me?"  
  
"Love to," he said with a grin, helping her to sit before carefully putting an arm around her shoulder. She leaned her head against his.  
  
And so, they watched the sunset and waited for the arrival of another day.  



	8. Chapter Eight-Saved?

  
Altaica's Story- Part Eight- Saved?  
  
Author's note: Okay, the usual....Alta, Engle and Ocenir belong to me, Ruffles and truffles belong to L and Mell, the rest of them belong to RUG. This story has quite a bit more humor than the rest of mine have. Hehehehe, enjoy!-Amber  
  
Macavity stormed around the apartment. She was one lucky bitch! She'd gotten away from him and from that other cat....what was his name? Engle. That was it. Although....a wicked smile formed on his lips. That bratty cousin of hers, that Jemima, she hadn't gotten away. No, Mac old boy, he reassured himself. You aren't losing your touch.  
  
How would he get through to her? He thought bitterly, knocking a plant off of the windowsill. HE was the top cat around here, not that silver-striped Boy Scout, Munkustrap, and certainly not her. Macavity was the name that caused fear in everyone's gut, and he needed to install that fear into that insolent American.  
  
He stood, stretching. Maybe a walk around the perimeters of the Junkyard would give him some ideas.  
  
  
"But Ruffles......."  
  
"Truffles, THIS is how we make applesauce! Just...hold still!!!"  
  
"I'm telling you, this isn't how the tele-ele-ele-ele-elevision program showed it....."  
  
"Just keep STILL!!!" Ruffles had somehow gotten a pair of scissors and was hacking away at Truffles's fur. The kits were "making applesauce" in a large, cracked enamel bowl. Ruffles paused to scatter some more hair into the muddy mixture that was already in the bowl.  
  
"What are we going to do with this again?"  
  
"Feed it to Munkustrap!!! And then say that Auntie Altie said we could. You know he always believes us when we say that."  
  
Macavity paused when he heard the words "Auntie Altie". Altie...Altaica? Maybe. He peered over a large roll of pink insulation and surveyed the two kittens below. One of them, a reddish one, was holding a pair of scissors, chopping off uneven hunks of hair form the other one, the brown patchworked one. He waited for them to say the name again.  
  
Ruffles put down the scissors and pulled out a small plastic squeeze bottle. "The finishing touch!" she exclaimed.  
  
"Ooooooooh, d'you think Auntie Altie would like that?" Truffles asked, gingerly feeling the missing patches of fur.  
  
"Who cares?" ruffles said, upending the bottle. The label read "Stronghold".  
  
Macavity swooped out and seized the kits, not noticing that they didn't scream, and that Ruffles continued holding the Stronghold glue.  
  
  
Alta sighed and trotted over to where Ruffles and Truffles usually played. It was near the edge of the junkyard, in what was referred to as the "sharp-objects" section. As long as they didn't use the things they found on TOO many members of the tribe, nobody cared. Most of the cats hoped that the two would kill each other off playing over here.  
  
Alta found the "applesauce" and sighed. The hair was from Truffles, and the scissors smelled of Ruffles. She wondered why the mixture had been abandoned just as the glue was being added. They had probably planned on upending it over Tugger's head, she mused. It was something that they would do. So why leave it?  
  
She sniffed the air around the area. Something smelled familiar....her stomach turned as she realized what it was. Macavity!  
  
She turned and ran for the Junkyard at a breakneck speed. One dead kit was all that the Tribe could handle!!!  
  
  
"MAC TOOK RUHFFLES AN' TRUFFLES!!!" she screamed as she rounded the corner into the main section of the Junkyard.  
  
There was a shocked silence, and then someone began to cheer. Nobody except Alta, Munkus, Misto, and Ocenir had liked the kits, and the toms tolerated them for Alta's sake. Everyone else was sick of their antics, and many mumbled amongst themselves that Macavity had probably sent the two to destroy the Tribe from within.  
  
"Maybe NOW I can turn back to being black and white," a still-gold Alonzo muttered under his breath.  
  
"Maybe I'll get the knots out of my mane!" Tugger said, happiness tingeing his voice.  
  
"Ah can't believe yous!" Alta exclaimed. "Do yous really wanta bury two moah kits?"  
  
Ocenir stood. "She's right, guys. Whether we want them or not, we have to get Ruffles and Truffles back."  
  
"Who knows what Macavity might do to them!" Demeter exclaimed. "Especially if they mention you, Altaica."  
  
Munkustrap nodded. "We know where he's taking them. We'll need two groups...." The silver tabby was off, making plans for the next raid on Macavity's apartment.  
  
  
However, things were not going quite as Demeter had thought they would. The question should have been,. "What will they do to Macavity?"  
  
Mac was trying not to harm the kits, he needed them for his plan. After a few minutes of walking, he reached a conclusion of sorts. The Ruffles kit had the ability to be a criminal mastermind, and the Truffles kit was quite thick-headed.  
  
"Hey Truffles?"  
  
"What iz it y'all?" Mac groaned. The accent! Again! Atrocious!  
  
"I wonder if Uncie Mackie likes Stronghold....."  
  
Macavity started. "What's stronghold?" he asked, regretting it the moment it came from his mouth.  
  
Behind her back, Ruffles poured a large amount of glue onto Truffles's paw. "Stronghold is....THIS!" she picked up the slightly smaller kit and threw her at Macavity, the gluey paw coming into contact with his forehead.  
  
"TRUFFLES! Off my forehead! NOW!" Mac was a little more than pissed. His stylishly dusty, neglected coat was getting ruffled and sticky from this kit. He blinked as a large bead of glue dripped between his eyes. Wait a minute....glue?  
  
Truffles tried pitifully to pull her paw from Mac's forehead. "Uh-oh, spaghettiohs....Ah iz stuck, y'all!"  
  
"NO! NO! YOU ARE NIOT STUCK!!!" Mac was having a fit. Having this....THING stuck to his forehead? No, thank you.  
  
"But ah iz, Uncie Mackie!!!!"  
  
Ruffles grinned wickedly and whipped out the scissors. "Don't worry, Uncie Macky-avy-avy-avy-tee, I can fix it....."  
  
"Did you heah that? She can fix it, y'all!!!!" Truffles cried, jumping up an down, forgetting that her paw was stuck to Mac's head. His jaw hit the pavement repeatedly.  
  
"OW! TRUFFLES! STOP!" he felt as though his scalp was being pulled off.  
  
"Ye-es, Truffles, stop and hold still if you ever want to get unstuck..." Ruffles sounded deeply amused. Truffles stopped jumping, Mac's head stopped whacking, and Ruffles opened the scissors.  
  
SNIP....SNIPSNIPSNIPSNIPSNIP.  
  
"Ah iz free, y'all!!!!!" Truffles cried, bouncing away from "Uncie Mackie" with a rather large amount of long ginger fur on her paw. Macavity touched his forehead gingerly and felt the choppy, uneven, and (in some places) completely missing strands of fur.  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"  
  
Half a block away, the search party halted, confused. "Wasn't that Macavity creaming?" Ocenir asked, confused.  
  
Altaica was cracking up. "Stronghold....."  
  
Tugger groaned. "The poor guy!!!!!!"  
  
The party set off again, moving a lot faster than usual.  
  
  
They reached Macavity's home at dusk, finding the ginger cat waiting for them to come with a frantic look. Now, not only was Macavity's "hairline" er...receding, he was also sporting a rather large pink bow on his tail and several patches of dry-or-drying glue. It was the first time that the Hidden Paw was glad to see a Jellicle, and the first time the Jellicles nearly fell down laughing at the sight of Macavity.  
  
Mac looked at them, pleading. "Take them back!!!!" he cried.  
  
Alta stepped forward, a smug grin on her face. "What wazzat?" she asked.  
  
"PLEASE, oh please-oh-please-oh-pretty-pretty-please take those blasted kits back!" he cried, completely ruining his tough Mystery Cat outer look.  
  
Ruffles peeked around the doorway with Truffles close behind. The brown-patched kit was holding a bucket that looked as though it was filled with a mixture of flour and water. "He-llo, Auntie Altie!" Truffles cried, waving the paw covered in ginger fur. "We're just having some fun with our Uncie Macky, y'all!"  
  
"We loooooove our Uncie Macky!" Ruffles cried, taking the bucket and upending it over Macavity, leaving him completely covered in sticky white paste.  
  
Alonzo snickered. Macavity glared at him and sneered. "Shut up, goldilocks!"  
  
Mistoffelees looked like he was about to have a fit. "So, Mac, are you going to begin sporting that nice pink bow in p-public?"  
  
Alta raised an eyebrow at the cats around her. "C'mon, guys, give Mac a break." She turned to Macavity, a steely cold look on her face. "Here's the deal, puss. You leave us alone, and we'll bring Ruffles and Truffles back with us. Bother the Tribe at ALL, and, well, the kits will be paying a visit to their...Uncie Macky."  
  
Macavity, now covered in sticky white paste, from his bald spot to the pink bow on his tail, nodded rapidly. Alta smiled and gestured to the two kits, who ran towards the members of the Tribe, giving "Uncie Macky" a good-bye squirt of Stronghold as they passed.  
  
  
As soon as they were out of sight of the apartment, Alta burst out laughing and, much to their dismay, hugged the kits.   
  
"What'd we do to deserve punishment like this?" Ruffles cried.  
  
"We was only having fun with our Uncie Mackie, y'all!!!" Truffles exclaimed.  
  
This merely caused everyone to laugh all the more. When they reached the Junkyard, Alta and Ocenir couldn't help but relay the story to an audience of attentive cats. Ruffles and Truffles changed in everyone's eyes then, because, maybe, just maybe...oh, was it really possible?  
  
The Terrible Two (as they were sometimes called) may just have saved the Junkyard from Macavity.  



	9. Chapter Nine-Engle's Return

Altaica's Story-Part 9-Engle's Return  
  
Autho's note:What to say, what to say? Well, Alta, ocenir, sarge, and engle ae mine, ruffles and truffles belong to L and Mell, the rest belong to RUG. More famous battle scenes ;). Hehhee, thanks!-Amber  
  
  
"Alta! Alta!" came the call of a mind-voice in the early morning dew. Alta groaned and opened an eye.  
  
"Sarge?" she asked, picturing the orange tabby as she'd last seen him. "What's up? Is it time?"  
  
"Not exactly, Alta," he said in an odd tone.  
  
"Then what, exactly?"  
  
"Well.....Engle's coming to London."  
  
"He's WHAT?" she screamed, aloud and in her mind, sitting straight up.  
  
"He left about a week ago, Alta! He'll be there any day. He blocked my mental connection for as long as he could!" Sarge sounded panicky. Alta forced herself to take deep breaths and, when she was calmer, she replied.   
  
"Gotcha. Thanks for the warning, Sarge."  
  
"Anytime, Alta," he said, before she felt the familiar tug that meant he had closed the connection.  
  
She sat for a moment, remembering the deep, melodic sound of his voice, quavering with the golden thread of a connection. In another life he would have been a singer, she thought to herself as she stood with a sigh. But this wasn't another life, and if Engle really was coming....  
  
She whirled and slammed her fist down on the waist-high shelf. She didn't care if her hurt her, Bast knew that he'd done it enough. But he wasn't going to hurt these cats! Not if it was the last thing she did.  
  
Fist still clenched and her jaw likewise, she walked out into the bright sunshine. Days like this were rare in London, and around her the others were lifting their faces to the sun, napping, and talking quietly. She groaned inwardly and found the silver tabby and patched tom near each other. Grabbing both of them by an ear, she dragged them towards the Old Ford, picking up Misto on the way.  
  
"Um...Alta? Could I have my ear back now?" Ocenir asked as they neared thew giant hunk of metal.  
  
"What? Oh, sure. Sorry," she said, releasing them, causing Munkustrap and Ocenir to rub their ears in pain and Misto to snicker with laughter. Alta leapt neatly into the auto, followed closely by the three toms.  
  
"I take it hat there was some reason that you nearly wrenched their ears off?" Misto asked as he landed lightly on the seat.  
  
"Unfortunately. I trust that you all remember Engle?"  
  
Various growls and hisses accompanied this question. She nodded. "I'll take that as a yes. Well, I just got a mind-tap from Sarge...he said that Engle left Boston on a ship for London a week ago and has been blocking his mental connection ever since. Today was the first day he could get through, which unfortunately means that Engle is nearing the coast of England."  
  
Munkustrap sponged his fur up, looking remarkably like a silver poodle who had just been through the tumble cycle of a dryer. "Engle's coming HERE?" he half-shouted.  
  
Ocenir was frozen, eyes glassed over, paws clenched. Alta cast a worried look at him and waved a paw in front of his face. "Earth to 'Cenir! Houston, we have a problem......"  
  
Ocenir started and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Spaced out a little."  
  
Misto snickered. "You could say that. Okay," he said, turning back to Alta and Munkus. "What we need is a plan."  
  
"Don't bother." Her voice was flat again, and it almost sounded as if she had resigned herself to her fate. It sent chills down Misto's spine, Munkustrap's too. Ocenir seemed unaffected, he had heard her talk like this before and knew what she was up to.  
  
"Alta! I didn't drag your sorry hide across the Atlantic so you can go feed yourself to the wolves!"  
  
"But---"  
  
"No buts! You're staying here, and that's that! Besides, I don't think Munkus and Misto would LET you go."  
  
Both Munkustap and Mistoffelees were confused. "Let her do what?" Misto asked tentatively, wishing he hadn't.  
  
Ocenir looked grim. "Go and...eh...meet Engle."  
  
"WHAT?" Munkustrap screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. Alta flinched.   
  
"Easy, Munkus.... volume control...."  
  
"Are you insane?" Misto was shocked. She would actually DO that?  
  
As if she was reading his thoughts (and she probably was), she said softly, "Yes, Misto, I'd do that. I know how to...eh...handle him, shall we say. You saw most of it. I would have been worse off if I didn't know which buttons to push. Besides which, it'll weaken him before he gets here, and he will. "Toys" don't come cheap back home."  
  
What she was saying, sadly, made sense. Munkustrap bit his lip and sighed. "Very well. You have proven your point. However, Misto and Ocenir will be going with you."  
  
Alta frowned. "You'll need Ocenir here, to plan for the defensive. He knows Engle. And Misto would probably be needed also....."  
  
Munkustrap paused and nodded slowly. Both Ocenir and Misto's jaws practically scraped the seat.  
  
"You can't let her go alone! She could be killed!" Misto howled.  
  
"She WILL be killed if he gets his bloody paws on her!" Ocenir said, growling.  
  
Munkustrap had no answer, knowing all too well that it was true. He merely bowed his head, making the two toms turn on Altaica.  
  
She merely had a steely cold blue glance for them. "Sometimes, you know, that's all you live for," she said quietly.  
  
"What is?" asked Ocenir, knowing full well. She had said the same thing to him months before.  
  
"To die." She said simply, and she was gone.  
  
Misto buried his face in his paws. Everlasting Cat! She'd better not die.  
  
Ocenir looked sadly out of the hole in the windshield for a moment before turning to Munkustrap. "So...I suppose we'll be needing a defense of sorts....what she said is true."  
  
"Which part?" asked Misto, his voice glum and slightly muffles by his paws.  
  
"About it being difficult for Engle to find his toys...."  
  
Munkustrap nodded gravely and they set to work, summoning the rest of the Tribe to a meeting by the Tire.  
  
It was busy down by the Wharves, where various merchant ships came in. Feeling conspicuous in her short, well-cared-for fur, Alta set out among the docks, checking out the cargoes. She paused when she thought she saw a flicker of a black tail around a crate, but further inspection proved her false.  
  
Shrugging, she set off again, pausing only to courteously greet any other cats that she ran into, whether she knew them or not. She felt one all-too-familiar presence suddenly, and she knew that he had found her.  
  
She wheeled around and bolted, heading towards a park that wasn't too far from the Yard. She heard and felt the cat following her, and he soon drew even with her, leaping at her and knocking her to the ground.  
  
"Always the idiot, Altaica," he spat as she hissed and tried to squirm out from underneath him.  
  
"And you were just always the gentleman," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice like melted butter. "So kind and generous..."  
  
He struck her across the face. "Don't push me, girl," he warned her, the blow stinging. "Today is not the day to push me too far."  
  
She sneered. "I'll be the judge of that," she said, speaking with a false bravado.  
  
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. She continued, "And since you always were the gentleman, it would be a good idea to get off of me now."  
  
He laughed, chilling her blood. "I'll be the judge of that," he said, stroking her cheek. "After all, it's been far too long since I've had you around to play with. I may just enjoy myself right here..."  
  
She drew back and spat at him, hissing, "Pig!"  
  
He blinked as the spittle ran down his face. The shocked expression was gone a split second later, and Alta was soon wondering if she had imagined it as he dragged her to a slightly more secluded corner.  
  
He was about to...have his fun when she brought a swift knee up, ramming him in the groin. He doubled back, groaning, and she soon had him facedown on the ground, both arms pinned behind his back.  
  
"Now, you aren't the only one who's learned something," she hissed softly into his ear, wrenching his arms further across, nearly breaking his shoulder-blades.  
  
Facedown on the ground with his mouth full of dirt, it was all Engle could do to cry out weakly. Suddenly, the pressure on his back wasn't there anymore, and Alta was making a break for it.  
  
He pushed himself off the ground, cursing, and soon had Alta down again, not listening to her weak protests as he played his game. When he tackled her this time, he had slammed the side of her head into the hard edge of a cement brick, rendering her nearly unconscious. As it was, the blow to the ground had a sickening CRACK to it, and, judging by her shallow breathing, he had broken a rib or two. Which was just as well...she might actually die this time.  
  
Her weak cries were loud enough; however, to attract attention if anyone happened to be in the area. A blow to the jaw shattered it and finally sent her into unconsciousness, shutting her up. Although, he mused as he did his stuff, it was more fun when she was awake.  
  
  
  
Back at the Junkyard, Misto suddenly doubled over in pain. Munkustrap and Ocenir were by his side in moments, trying to understand the conjurer's raspy words.  
  
"It's Altaica," he wheezed. "Mind-call...in park...." He moaned before straightening up on shaky legs. "Half a block from here.... she's getting it pretty badly."  
  
Ocenir clamed a paw over his mouth and raced behind a junkpile. Munkustrap nodded as the obvious sound of someone being ill reached their ears. "Getting what pretty badly?" Munkustrap asked quietly.  
  
Misto laughed, a laugh that wasn't a laugh. "Well, she was his toy, correct?" Munkustrap nodded. "Well...he's playing his game."  
  
Munkus couldn't blame Ocenir for being sick. As it was, his own stomach was turning a little. Ocenir tottered back around the junkpile, his normally white facial fur turning slightly green.  
  
Munkustrap turned and surveyed the battle plan that they had laid out. All of the cats were in their positions, the Queens near the back of the Yard, for the most part. He sighed and looked out over the fence, making up his mind as Misto doubled over again.  
  
"The sight of the battle is being moved.... get most of the toms to the park, leave some here for the defensive," he instructed blandly. Soon a group of them were heading as swiftly as possible toward the park, leaving all of the Queens behind.  
  
"May the Everlasting Cat watch over them," Bombalurina intoned gravely.  
  
"And over her," Demeter added softly. Bomba had to agree.  
  
Jellylorum and Jennyanydots had to physically restrain Ruffles and Truffles from going to get Altaica, finally locking them in a petcarrier.  
  
  
By the time the group of toms made it to the park, Alta had regained consciousness and gotten Engle off of her somehow. She wasn't as lucky with him as she had been with Macavity. Several ribs had been broken yet again, and it looked as though her collarbone had been also. She had numerous slashed on her legs and arms, gashes in her side, and her face was a bloody mess from scratches and the broken jaw. However, she swung determinedly at Engle, hitting her mark several times.  
  
As the group neared, they saw her scale a tree swiftly, grabbing onto a branch and swinging around. Engle, still charging at her, collided with her foot and lower leg and fell to the ground. Munkustrap half-cringed as he heard something break.  
  
Alta dropped to the ground and began luring Engle to the entrance, her blood flowing freely. Her eyes were clouding over, and she looked ready to lapse into unconsciousness again, but she wasn't allowing herself to. When she got close enough, she fell, and Engle pounced.  
  
That was when Munkustrap and Ocenir jumped in, Mistoffelees running forward to get Alta out of the way. He found her against the fence, her breathing shallow. She must have rolled away when Munkus and Ocenir came flying at the black tom. Her eyes were almost completely clouded over as she looked up at Misto, a lopsided grin decorating her face. When she spoke, her speech sounded slurred, as though she were drunk.  
  
"I got him good, didn't I, Misto?" she asked.  
  
He winced as he surveyed the bloody mess that lay before him. Her jaw had been caved in to the top of her mouth, and there was blood everywhere from injuries all over her body. Beckoning to Tugger, he lifted Alta carefully onto his back as she went limp, passing out finally from the loss of blood.   
  
Misto and Tugger turned, and, carefully balancing the bloody queen, headed back to the Junkyard as swiftly as they could.  
  
  
Munkustrap and Ocenir hadn't taken anything more than surface wounds. Engle was in pretty bad shape to begin with; Alta had gotten him good. There was little they needed to do, and the backups that had come just stood and watched the carnage.   
  
The black tom lay, wheezing, on the ground, slumped over from the last attack. He could do nothing as Ocenir and Munkustrap walked up to him. Engle locked eyes with both of them, and, as calmly as they possibly could, the patched tom and the tabby tipped the half-dead cat into the pond.  
  
  
  
Misto, Coricopat, and Tantomile all frowned almost perfectly in unison. They had never encountered anything quite so serious before. In the end, they each chose a section of the young Queen and set to work.  
  
Misto had the face. It didn't look anything like the Alta he knew. He started cleaning off the blood, and after he did so, he whistled softly through his teeth. That cat had a mean uppercut, because Alta's jaw was imbedded in the roof of her mouth. One of her cheekbones was broken and most of her teeth had been knocked out. Patches of headfur were missing, and her face was riddles with scratches. Her eyes were swollen shut.  
  
Coricopat was going through similar states of shock examining Alta's midsection and arms. Almost all of her ribs had been broken, her collarbone also. The liver and right lung was damaged, it appeared, and her heart had to struggle to pump whatever blood she had left in her. Scratched and gashed riddled her arms and torso, and her left elbow was shattered.  
  
Tantomile wasn't faring any better. Alta had possibly suffered the most damage from her waist down, and Tanto sighed as she set to work, repairing miniscule internal organs before turning her attention to the scratches and other injuries on her legs.  
  
  
The three were in the pipe for over two hours before Corico and Tanto came out, covered in blood, to flop down on the ground near the pipe. They looked completely exhausted, and it took some time for Tantomile to ease one eye open.  
  
"Misto's staying with her for the first shift. She needs someone to act as a nurse constantly. The next few hours are crucial, and she needs as much quiet as she can get. Excuse us...we'll just be passed out over here," she said, lowering her head to rest on Coricopat's shoulder. The large tom had already fallen asleep, snoring softly.  
  
Everyone went about their work gravely, and even Ruffles and Truffles in their petcarrier were silent. Munkustrap, Ocenir, Tugger, Bombalurina, and Demeter talked quietly amongst themselves, while the rest of the Junkyard drifted away. Someone stood and dragged the petcarrier over also, although the usually rambunctious (and that's putting it mildly) kits were silent. Every now and then, someone would turn and look towards the pipe.  
  
  
Misto sighed and checked to make sure that the makeshift IV tubes weren't blocked. She had lost so much blood that they had to give her more, and he was nervous about the delicate tubes getting clogged. It was the fist time he had used something like that, having summoned it from nowhere, and he didn't want anything to go wrong.  
  
He watched the uneven rise and fall of Alta's chest and checked to make sure that the bandaged on her wounds weren't soaked through. He had managed to knit the bones of her face, but the blood was one thing he couldn't stop. He closed his eyes and ran a quick scan over her body, making sure that the delicate stitches in the injured organs were fine. Satisfied, he sat back, and just watched.  
  
Hours passed, and the moon rose. The seven outside didn't cease their vigil, Misto noticed, having glanced outside for brief moments. But now he was watching Altaica again, staring at her face. He thought that he had seen movement, but maybe he was mistaken.  
  
There it was again. No, that wasn't it. There! There!  
  
Alta's magnificent blue eyes were slowly opening, and he could tell that she was confused. He leaned down, kissed her on the cheek, and ran to the mouth of the pipe, nearly colliding with Coricopat and Tantomile as they came in for their shift. "She's awake!" he whispered reverently, squeezing their hands before running out to the waiting group.  
  
Tugger opened a bleary eye as Misto ran over. "Something chasing you?" he murmured lazily. Bombalurina stirred from where he head rested in his lap. The others woke, also, and Ruffles and Truffles peered out of the petcarrier.  
  
Misto sank to his knees in the middle of the group. "She's awake. She's going to be okay!"  
  
The others sat, shocked for a moment, before piling onto the small tom. "HEY! YOU GUYS! AIR IS GOOD!" he cried, disappearing under the pile of cats. Munkus lifted the latch of the petcarrier and the kits jumped onto the pile, too.  
  
After all, she was going to be okay.  



	10. Chapter Ten-Missing

Altaica's STory-Part 10-Missing  
  
Author's note-Well...the usual...Alta, Ocenir, Sarge, Trista, and Engle are mine, Ruffles and Truffles belong to L and Mell, and...well....just...enjoy!-Amber  
  
Alta leaned on a makeshift half-crutch, gazing out of the pipe longingly. Since she had become mobile, her care had been turned over to Jellylorum and Jennyanydots, and she missed having "doctors" her own age to talk to. Besides, the older queens always worried more. Bed rest didn't suit the slender queen, and all she did now was watch the others go about their lives.  
  
She sighed and leaned against the edge of the pipe. Recovery was so.... tedious. Nobody stopped by after awhile, and when she asked for a mirror, the Nurses refused to give her one. That only got her more depressed. Winter was coming, she had her face smashed in like a dented aluminum can, and at the rate she was going she wouldn't get out of this pipe until she was at least as old as Jennyanydots.  
  
"Dearie! Stay away from the door!" it was Jellylorum.  
  
"Yes, Jelly," Alta replied listlessly. The Nurse turned away, Alta noticed as she looked back. Almost as if she couldn't bear looking at her.  
  
Tears started down Alta's cheeks as she determinedly walked out of the pipe and began scaling the junkpile, unbeknownst to anyone below. If they didn't want her....find, they could have it their way, she decided, plopping down onto a discarded mattress with a sigh. She'd just....rest for awhile....  
  
  
"MISTOFFELEES!!!!" came Jellylorum's cry from the pipe. He panicked, thinking that something might be wrong with their patient, and raced over.  
  
"What is it?" he asked.  
  
"Alta's gone!!!!!!" Jennyanydots cried. Misto stiffened.  
  
"She's dead?"  
  
"NO! She's GONE! Left! Missing! I don't know what, but she isn't here!" Jelly cried.  
  
Misto's eyes widened. That was worse than dead, he thought as he sped off in search of Munkustrap.   
  
The silver tabby had been resting the Old Ford when the smaller tuxedo came speeding up. "MUNKUSTRAP!"  
  
Munkus sat straight up, hitting his head on the underside of the dashboard. He poked his head out, annoyed. "What IS it, Mistoffelees? Is it so important that I almost got a concussion?"  
  
"Alta's gone!"  
  
"She's WHAT?" the tabby cried, leaping out of the car.  
  
"Jellylorum and Jennyanydots were watching her, and she was thee...but now she isn't!"  
  
Munkustrap tensed visibly. "Search parties immediately, search the park, areas near Macavity's apartment, anywhere else they can think of. She can't be gone for too long, not in her condition...."  
  
Misto nodded and scurried off. Munkustrap sighed and set out on his own, checking choice places around the Junkyard.  
  
  
It was dark when they called off the search. They had been unsuccessful, and nobody thought to look through the junkpiles.  
  
The tribe was gathering around the Tire as Alta continued her climb, wanting to seek solace in the moon. She felt ugly, stupid, unfit. Damn Engle! She thought bitterly for the first time in months. Life had a way of coming along and slapping you in the face when you least expected it, and Engle had always been that nasty little hand to slap her.  
  
She reached her destination, a ragged old armchair set on the very tip of the northern junkpile. She nestled into it, leaning her crutch against the arm, pulling her raggedy blanket around her securely as the moon rose in the sky.   
  
Standing on the Tire, Munkustrap called the meeting of the tribe to whatever order they could manage. Ruffles and Truffles were driving everyone insane, asking for "Auntie Altie". Ocenir, Misto, and Munkus were beside themselves, and Demeter and Bomba had broken down in tears. Looking at the array of basket cases, the rest of the Tribe was clearly puzzled.  
  
Munkustrap sighed. "This afternoon, at about three-thirty p.m., Altaica was discovered to be missing from the recovery area, which was supervised by Jellylorum and Jennyanydots. Search parties scoured the immediate vicinity and Alta's usual Junkyard spots, but by nightfall we turned nothing up. Alta is presumed dead, merely because of the delicacy of her condition," he said, staring at a point above the Tribe's heads. He slid to his knees on the tire, his head in his hands, while the Tribe burst into an absolute uproar.  
  
On the junkpile, Alta cast a glance over her shoulder as the tumult broke out below. A tear shimmered on her cheek before falling, falling in perfect form, to rest gently on her leg. Let them have their fun...it's not like they cared, she thought bitterly as she turned back to the moon.  
  
When the confusion had died down, Misto shook his head. Ocenir noticed, of course...he noticed everything.  
  
"What's wrong, Misto?"  
  
Still shaking his head slowly, Misto looked up at the larger patchworked tom. "You don't think she seriously believed what she said, do you?" he asked.  
  
Ocenir was puzzled. "She said a lot of thing. Which one are we talking about here?"  
  
"'Sometimes, that's all you live for. To die.' You don't think that she....wanted to die, do you?"  
  
Ocenir sighed and looked out over the northern junkpile. He almost thought that someone was sitting up there, but he blinked and it was gone. "I don't know. You never could tell with Alta...she'd say one thing and mean another, merely to see if you were paying attention. It was one of her little mind games...."  
  
"Little mind games?" Misto was clearly puzzled. The only Alta he had known was the sweet, kind Alta....and, of course, her counterpart...the feline she became in a fight. He shuddered, remembering the pure rage that had taken over her eyes during those fights.  
  
Ocenir sighed and scratched at an ear. "You didn't know her like I did, Misto. She's so complex....was so complex, I mean. A psychiatrist would have loved to figure out how her mind worked. She would say or do one thing and mean for you to see that it was something different. She could do anything, and the only problem with that was that she thought that she was invincible." He laughed suddenly. "But it was the little things that made her Altaica...."  
  
"Like what?" asked Munkustrap, joining the two. Ocenir grinned.  
  
"Like how she would care for anyone and anything, as long as it was alive. I remember one time, back home, there was this little bluejay that broke a wing and was hobbling down the street looking all pathetic. The door guards had already divvied him up, but Alta ran forward and grabbed the poor thing, to take him back to her cell."  
  
"Her cell?" Misto thought that it was merely a figure of speech, but started when Ocenir nodded.  
  
"Her cell. Bars in the door, cement floor, pathetic little cot."  
  
Munkus shuddered. Misto asked quietly, "What happened to the bird?"  
  
"Oh, she gave it to Trista...Trista was the healer, and they let it out again the next week."  
  
They were silent again for a time, Ocenir staring at the stars, Munkus at the ground, Misto at nothing in particular. Then, Misto started chuckling softly. The other two cast worried glances at him, and he held up a paw.  
  
"I was just remembering the day that she let Ruffles and Truffles bleach you, Munkus...."  
  
Munkus growled softly. "That wasn't funny...." Not only had Alta given the kits permission to bleach the silver tabby, she had helped.  
  
Ruffles and Truffles came trotting over. Ocenir half-wondered if Truffles knew about the sawdust all over her back, and decided that she did.  
  
"What're we doing, y'all?" Truffles asked.  
  
"And where's Auntie Altie?" Ruffles asked, peeking around Misto.  
  
Ocenir cleared his throat and glanced at Munkus, who was at a loss for words. Misto was busy trying to keep Ruffles from cutting his tail off.  
  
"Well...you see...we don't know where she is, exactly....she's missing."  
  
"An' why aren't y'all looking for our Auntie Altie?" Truffles asked, indignant.  
  
Munkus sighed. "We think that she's dead...."  
  
Truffles burst into tears. "Sh-sh-sh-she always let us hit people with stiiiiiiiicks!!!!"  
  
Ruffles frowned and whacked Truffles over the head. "I always let myself hit YOU with sticks, Truffles..."  
  
"It isn't the saaaaaaame, y'all!"  
  
"She let us bleach Munkustrap!!! And torture Tugger! And paint Alonzo gold!!!"  
  
Misto snickered when they mentioned Munkustrap's ambush. The silver tabby hung his head and groaned. Ruffles looked up and grinned evilly.  
  
"Awwww, Uncie Monkey, you looked GOOD as an Albino!!!"  
  
Munkustrap sighed. On a normal day, he would be annoyed at the kit's antics (and at them calling him Uncie Monkey) but today...well, he'd just ignore it. He lay down, placing his head on his paws. Demeter came over then, running at a shockingly fast speed.  
  
She burst into the small circle. "Munkus! I just heard! Did you find her?"  
  
Munkus shook his head without lifting it from his paws. Demi knew what it meant, to be missing in this cold in her condition. She let out a strangled cry and sank to her knees. "She was the only one who ever knew how I felt.....this place is going to be so EMPTY...." She said softly, looking around blankly.  
  
Ocenir just stared bleakly and Misto nodded. Munkus rubbed the slender queen's back until her breathing slowed. As she sat back, Ruffles and Truffles peered around at her in confusion.  
  
"Why iz y'all crying, y'all?"  
  
"Auntie Altie'll be back!!!!!"  
  
The older cats glanced at each other over the kits heads. Just five minutes ago, the two had understood that Alta was never coming back. Why were they....?  
  
Munkus wasn't that great with the kits. "Ruff, Truff, Altaica won't be coming back..."  
  
Ruffles glared at him. "Two things. First of all, don't call us Ruff and Truff, or you might be making friends with another bleach bottle."  
  
Munkustrap gulped, and Truffles picked up where Ruffles left off. "And we KNOW that, we're trying to make them FEEL better, you eejit!"  
  
Munkustrap blinked. "Right. I knew that."  
  
Misto and Demeter snickered softly, but Ocenir stood up. They thought they knew her, but they didn't....  
  
"Guys, I think I'm going to turn in for the night. Munkus, search tomorrow morning?"  
  
Munkustrap nodded. "She should have a proper burial, at least."  
  
Ocenir stiffened slightly. "Right. I'll see you all tomorrow...." He turned and, for some unknown reason, walked toward the northern junkpile.  
  
  
Alta had been watching them for ages, them and the moon. Now, she sighed and looked down at the trash around her. She had no idea how she had gotten up here and no idea how she would get down...something reflected the moonlight near her feet. She reached down and snagged the shard of mirror, holding it loosely in her hands.  
  
"And now...the moment of truth..." she muttered to herself. Taking a deep breath, she flicked the mirror toward her face, using the moon's rays for light.  
  
She frowned. Yellowing bruises dotted her face and lined her still-sore jaw, which, she noticed, Misto had done a good job of fixing. He cheekbone was a little messed up and he smile went crooked, but overall she couldn't see why Jelly and Jenny refused to let her see a mirror. After all, she mused, I've been worse.  
  
She threw the mirror away from her, wincing as she heard it shatter. Does the seven years bad luck rule apply to an already broken mirror?  
  
  
Ocenir was halfway up the junkpile when he paused. He'd seen some motion near the top, something bright being flung away from a ratty armchair. He paused, wondering if he should turn back, but he continued onward, quickening his pace a little as the cold night air bit into his skin. It was colder up here than below, the junkpiles sheltered the small main Yard. He shivered as the wind picked up again, hoping that the chair would have at least one small blanket.  
  
  
Alta shivered when the wind picked up and curled tighter in her blanket. She sat up straight, however, when a shooting star streaked across the sky. She closed her eyes, feeling almost as though she were a kitten again, and made a wish. Although, she thought wryly to herself, she didn't hurt this much before she was in Engle's lair as a kitten....  
  
She froze when she heard a footstep on an old television set nearby. She swiftly hunkered down into the blankets, hiding almost completely beneath it. Only the tip of her tail showed, and that didn't matter, since both it and the blanket were black.  
  
Ocenir paused before the chair, remembering the day that he and Alta had figured out the way up. Sighing, he picked up the blanket....and stopped, staring.  
  
Alta jumped when she felt the blanket being whipped off of her, and she guiltily opened one blue eye. She frowned when she saw Ocenir's shocked expression.  
  
"'Ayve you evah 'ad ta put up wit dos two nursin' yas? It's enough ta make a cat go crazy, it is..."  
  
His jaw dropped, and he gathered her into his arms, hugging her tightly. "Thank Bast you're all right...." He said, his voice muffled now that his nose was buried in her fur.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, why wouldn't I be all right?"  
  
He pulled back slightly. "Everyone thinks that you're dead?"  
  
"WHA?"  
  
He told her the whole story, and when he was done, she had a guilty, although lopsided, grin on her face.  
  
"I didn' know dat dey'd flip like dat!"  
  
He shrugged. "Do you want to go back down?" he asked, wrapping the blanket tighter around her.  
  
She looked up as another star shot across the sky. "No, not yet," she whispered, resting her head against his massive chest. "Not while the stars are falling...."  
  
Sure enough, a regular shower of shooting stars was starting up. He rested his head on top of hers, and they watched the silvery lights arch across the sky, silent. Just savoring each other's presence.  
  
  
Ocenir and Alta went back down as the sun peeked over the horizon, waking Misto and Munkus as Alta stumbled on her crutch.  
  
"Ocenir?" Munkus mumbled, rolling over.  
  
Misto squinted. "ALTA?"  
  
That woke everyone up, and, recovering or not, she was soon covered in a heap of furry bodies. "AHHHHH! HEEEEEELP!!!"  
  
Ruffles and Truffles marched through, parting the crowd like the Red Sea. They stood before Alta, Ruffles with her arms cross, Truffles chasing her own tail.  
  
Ruffles spoke up. "You had us worried!" she said accusingly.  
  
"Uncie Monkey liiiiiiied, Auntie Altie, he said you were all deadified!!!"  
  
Alta laughed and mouthed at Munkustrap, 'Uncie Monkey?'. He shrugged.   
  
She turned to the kits. "Nah, I wouldn' go an do a stupid ting like dat...."  
  
Truffles frowned. 'But how can we be suuuuuuuure?"  
  
"Sure o' what?"  
  
"That you aren't from beyond the grave!" Ruffles said impatiently.  
  
Alta thought for a minute and cast a wicked grin at Munkustrap. Turning back to the kits, she said "Got some bleach?"  
  
They nodded, and then, the three turned to face Munkustrap.  
  
The color drained from his face and he slowly began backing away. "Now, Alta, you know you don't want to...."  
  
"GET 'IM, YOU TWOS!"  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"  



	11. Chapter Eleven-Empress

Altaica's Story-Part 11-Empress  
  
Author's note :right-o....Alta, Ocenir, Sarge, Trista, and Engle are all mine, Ruffles and Truffles belong to L and Mell, and the rest of the characters belong to UG....right...guess that's about it. Enjoy!  
  
Alta crept up behind the smaller, brighter tabby queen, biting her lip to keep from grinning. Quick as a flash, she unfastened the strand of pearls and sank back into the shadows, one paw over her mouth to keep from cracking up.  
  
She stepped into her pipe, pausing before the mirror to fasten Rumpleteazer's pearls onto herself. She looked at herself in the mirror and began to laugh. Tears started flowing down her face as she heard Rumple's confused shout from the Yard... "'Ey! Where's moi pearls?"  
  
It took her a little while to calm down enough to look in the mirror again. She frowned when she did-why did she look so different? She sat down, fingering the pearls gently. What was it about the necklace itself that made her look so.....so....what was the word? Evil. Cunning. And just the slightest bit scared. Call it whatever you wanted to call it, but she looked like she did....back home.  
  
She shuddered and unclasped the necklace, taking it off to stare at it. Turning it over in her paws, she tried to remember...something about pearls....  
  
It hit her like lightning and she shuddered, flinging the pearls out of the pipe. Whenever Engle had had...eh...."charity functions" and had wanted an ornament on his arm, she had to wear as many pearls and diamonds as she possibly could.  
  
She heard a yelp from outside. "Unidentified flying pearls!" a voice cried, and then there came the distinct sound of two cats hitting the ground. She poked her head out and smiled as she saw Ocenir and Misto standing cautiously.  
  
"Eh...sorry 'bout dat, yous two..." she called, backing into the pipe once more. Misto shrugged and continued upward, heading toward the box that he slept in, but Ocenir stopped at the pipe, rapping his knuckles gently on the side.  
  
Alta was brushing her fur out, and he saw her glance up at him in the mirror. "Oh. Hey, 'Cenir," she said, placing the brush back on its shelf. "What can I do for ya?"  
  
He shrugged, and there was an awkward moment when they just stared at each other. A grin began to slowly spread across his face. "What was with the flying pearls?"  
  
She looked at him, her eyes dark. "You must remember the thing Engle had with pearls...."  
  
Ocenir grimaced. "Owch. Sorry."  
  
There was another awkward moment before Ocenir left, calling a "good-night" over his shoulder.  
  
"'Night," Alta replied listlessly. She stared at her paws, thinking, for a long time after Ocenir had left. She sighed and blew out her stub of a candle. Everything would be clear in the morning....  
  
Alta awoke at the crack of dawn to the sounds of someone banging on the side of her pipe with a stick. "Ruffles, Truffles, if it's you I'll wring your little kitten necks," she mumbled, burying her head under the blanket.  
  
Munkustrap poked his head in, obviously amused. "You'll wring my little kitten neck? Since when do I have a little kitten neck?" he teased, entering.  
  
She pulled the blanket off of her head once more and offered Munkustrap a sheepish smile. "Since you're magically not Ruffles or Truffles?" she said meekly.  
  
He laughed heartily and she blushed slightly, heaving herself out of bed. "So, to what do I owe this...slightly annoying honor of the early-morning visit?" she asked, turning toward the mirror.  
  
He grinned. "Did you take Teazer's pearls last night?"  
  
She turned from the mirror, a faux shocked expression on her face. "Moi? Do a thing like that?" she asked, laughter edging her voice.  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "I had no idea you were so light-fingered."  
  
She grinned naughtily. "One of my many assorted talents," she said, winking.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Any reason why you threw them out of the pipe and nearly decapitated Ocenir and Misto?"  
  
She flushed and looked to the floor of the pipe. "I remembered something," she mumbled.  
  
He leaned towards her. "Remembered what?  
  
She shook her head. "I'm not going into that, and you know it!" she said, her voice husky. He frowned, worried, but turned to leave nonetheless.  
  
Pausing at the door, he half-turned back toward her. "By the way...Alonzo brought something in today...from the docks. A package arrived for you." With that, he was gone.  
  
She frowned and headed out of the pipe also, down toward the main Yard. What ever could have arrived for her?  
  
Alonzo handed her the small box. "Here it is, just like I found it," he said. Alta smiled her thanks at him and seated herself on a box a little ways away. She untied the string gingerly, unwrapped the paper. Lifting the lid on the tattered box inside, her face split into a wide grin.  
  
"'Cenir! Get your lazy butt over here!!!"  
  
The tall, patchworked tom loped over. "What's wrong, Alta?" he asked, spying the box. She beckoned for him to come closer.  
  
"Stuff from home!" she said, obvious excitement tingeing her voice. Ocenir, however, frowned.  
  
"Didn't you leave it with Trista?" he asked, obviously thinking.  
  
"Yeah," Alta replied absentmindedly, pawing through the contents with the excitement of a kit on Christmas morning.  
  
"Well...she wouldn't have sent it unless..." his voice trailed off.  
  
"No," Alta whispered, looking up at Ocenir quickly. She closed her eyes and felt for the connection with Sarge....but it was gone. "NO!" she cried, burying her face in her paws.   
  
Ocenir could guess what had happened by her actions, and he moved to her side, hugging her gently. "Alta, it's okay....."  
  
"Is not."  
  
Ocenir glanced up at Misto, who shrugged. She had a point. "But we're safe here, Alta," Ocenir said gently.  
  
"Do you really know that?" she whispered harshly, looking up at him, her eyes brilliant blue in her soaked face. "Nothing is certain, nothing!"  
  
Ocenir bowed his head. She was shockingly correct at times, and now was one of those times. Sarge and Trista were gone, it appeared. All around, cats bowed their heads, even though none of them had known the two.   
  
"But who?" Alta's soft voice shattered the silence. Misto glanced up t her quickly.   
  
"Who is still in Boston?" she said, clarifying the statement. "Who would kill them?"  
  
"Unless," Ocenir said slowly. "Unless....."  
  
"Unless what?" Munkustrap asked from where he was standing behind the two.   
  
"Well...two things. One, Engle got away somehow..." the Junkyard erupted in hisses, and Ocenir held up his paw to continue. "And returned to Boston, which is highly unlikely because of his...business interests here." Alta glared at him when he said that and turned away slightly. He rolled his eyes and continued once more, "Or, as Alta thought, there was another cat back home, but is holding the two captive and blocking the connection, like Engle did to Sarge when he left for here."  
  
"Or Engle's alive and blocking MY connection," Alta said, staring fixedly at a point above everyone's head. "But if that's the case...why would Trista send my things?"  
  
That stumped everyone for awhile, and eventually Alta stood, holding the box in her paws. She didn't say a word, but turned on her heel to head back toward her pipe. Ocenir watched her go, his chin in his paws. He looked down at the ground again, blinking to keep back tears. Sarge and Trista had been his friends too, after all.  
  
Munkustrap backed away into he shadows. Ocenir had the entire Tribe to comfort him, but Alta....well, when she went off to the pipe, few dared to follow. Most of the Tribe was wary of the striped queen without even realizing it, and she accepted it and moved on. However, Munkus thought that the deaths of two of her closest friends may just be the thing to push her over the edge.  
  
He approached the pipe cautiously, just in time to see her retreating to the dark inside. He crept up to the mouth of the pipe and peered in.  
  
Alta sat down with a sigh and eased the lid off of the box again. She sorted through it half-heartedly, none of the excitement remaining. He saw her set aside old letters, some pressed daisies, a couple of photographs and a sachet of grasses whose scent she inhaled deeply. She then froze as she carefully lifted something out of the box.  
  
She set the box aside and stood, moving over to the mirror. Whatever she was carrying had been wrapped gently in a handkerchief, long ago judging by the yellowing of the fabric at the folds. She unwrapped the bit of cloth carefully, lifting something delicate and silvery out. She faced the mirror, lifting the circlet to rest it on her head.  
  
She turned toward the door and Munkustrap froze. He knew that he was in plain view, but he felt that even if he had been hidden he would have been in plain view. Alta looked different somehow...older, more regal. Like a Queen in her domain.  
  
She broke the spell by smiling and tilting her head. She beckoned for Munkustrap to enter, and he, remembering the glory of her merely moments before, hastened to do so.  
  
She stood there, looking at him with an odd expression on her face, until Munkustrap realized in the half-light that her shoulders were shaking with her sobs. He frowned slightly and pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back until her breathing slowed. Then, he pulled away, and looked down at her with a quizzical expression.   
  
"What's with the crown?"  
  
She gestured to the box. "It's one of the jewels from home...."  
  
"Jewels?" he asked, raising an eyebrow practically to the roof. She grinned.  
  
"Yep. Jewels..."  
  
"Do I get an explanation?" he asked, plopping down on the blanket.  
  
"You aren't going to leave until you get one, am I correct?"  
  
"Damn straight," he said, his mouth curving upward slightly.  
  
She sighed. "I suppose I'll have to give you one, eh?"  
  
"That'd be nice," he said, pulling her down to sit next to him.  
  
"Well...I suppose I'll have to fill in a few gaps in the story of my life at Engle's lair. Every once in awhile he'd hold these parties...for his associates and for other criminals. Anyway, he always wanted an ornament for his arm, if not one, then two, and I was usually one of them. We'd have to get all decked out with the Crown Jewels...necklaces, rings, and either a circlet or a tiara. And even when we weren't at one of those functions, we'd have to at least wear a circlet when we were...entertaining him in a....scheduled appointment, shall we say."  
  
Munkustrap shuddered at her matter-of-fact way of speaking. "The...Crown Jewels or whatever they were...were they real?"  
  
She raised an eyebrow. "Was Engle alive? Only the best...we had to sparkle. And he always gave me pearls....the better to choke me with afterward."  
  
Munkustrap's expression was clear: disgust. "So...why did you keep that circlet?"  
  
She took it off and examined it in her paws for a second. "It's special to me....because it's from before Engle turned evil, I suppose...."  
  
"He wasn't evil before?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "No, he was evil and I went to him of my own free will. Of COURSE he was normal, smart one! I mean, nobody goes out into life thinking that they'll be a criminal mastermind..."  
  
Munkustrap shrugged. "I suppose not. So, why did you go to him in the first place?"  
  
She sighed and looked at the circlet. "We were kittenhood friends. Of course, Engle was almost a year older than me, but we never cared. He said that he was starting a..." she began to laugh. "A business. And I could be his Vice-President, the Empress of his domain....." she shook her head ruefully. "And for one year, the Golden Year as I like to call it, I WAS the Empress. That's even what he called me....Empress. And I was royalty....."  
  
She sighed and looked off into the distance, out of the pipe. "And then...something happened, I don't know what exactly. He stopped working with...legal things...and moved into catnip...human alcohol...human drugs and cigarettes. I told him that I didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore, I didn't want to be Empress of THAT domain....." she looked back at Munkustrap. "You can understand, right? It's one thing when it's something you enjoy, something you can respect....but when it gets illegal, here isn't much a decent person would want to do with it."  
  
He nodded, and Alta took that as a signal to continue.  
  
She shook her head, crying once more. "What made it worse is...I seriously think I loved him, Munkus! He was the perfect Tom before he started dealing with the illegal stuff. I mean, he'd send me a dozen roses every week. He was a hopeless romantic, sweet and caring, and I don't think he'd ever hit anyone in his life. But then...I think he got a dependency upon the alcohol, and I just thought in the beginning that it was overwork. He agreed with me...we'd go on trips around town...to the aquarium, to the Commons, to Fenway park to watch the Red Sox games. It was the life. And then....it all changed....and when I told him that I didn't want to be Empress anymore....I think I was becoming afraid of him. And that's when he turned ugly."  
  
"So...where does Ocenir fit into all of this?" She needed to get it out, Munkustrap could tell. So....he did what he could do...asked questions.  
  
"Ocenir was a little runt when he first came to the warehouse.....that's where Engle's Lair was...an enormous warehouse. He came near the beginning, and Engle let him in gladly....Ocenir was my young charge, basically. He and Trista were, at any rate. I'm at least six months older than both of them, we don't know exactly. They were mine to train, to teach....Trista went into the Healers and Ocenir into the Guards, of course. But Ocenir....well, Ocenir had been there for most of the time, and he'd even gone on outings with Engle and myself, and we were close. So when Engle started to get ugly...well, the first time he raised a paw to me, I seriously think he would have knocked my head off. Ocenir was my Guard that day....and he stepped between us.....and he took every blow. I was begging for Engle to stop, but he didn't stop...wouldn't stop until Ocenir was a bloody pulp. It was a very good thing that Trista had gotten so far along with the Healers that day...."  
  
Munkustrap shuddered, unwillingly picturing the scene. "What happened after that?" he whispered.  
  
"Engle got worse...and worse....and worse. I was there for two more years...he started having his spies track my movements so I couldn't escape. But I kept the circlet...to remind me of the boy that my younger heart had loved...to remind me that there was a cat under that fur," she said, standing to put the circlet on once more.   
  
Munkustrap stood also. "Could I see that?" he asked, extending a paw.  
  
Alta nodded slowly. "I suppose so..." she said, lifting it off of her head and placing it in Munkustrap's paw.  
  
He held it up and began to examine it. The circlet itself was a thin chain of silver, and every few inches was a hanging teardrop sapphire exactly the color of Alta's eyes. Munkustrap frowned at one of the gems. There was a letter faintly scratched into the setting for the hanging chair...and "I". Each hanging chain had one....and it spelled out "I Will Always Love You". Munkus smiled, the smile of a person keeping back tears as he lifted it up and set it on Alta's thick headfur again.  
  
"Where did he get the circlet?" Munkus asked softly as Alta started to place items back in the box.  
  
"I believe he had a Siamese that worked in a jewelry store make it. I've never seen anything else like it," she said, frowning as she looked for a place to put the box.  
  
Munkustrap nodded. It made sense. He turned to leave, but stopped at the door, looking back over his shoulder. "Alta?"  
  
"mmmm?" she said, half-turning in his direction.  
  
"Do you still love him?"  
  
She stopped and stared at Munkus, one of her teardrops hanging exactly in the center of her forehead. "I---I don't know," she said, looking at her feet. "After everything that he did....you'd think it would be impossible, but..."  
  
He nodded, cutting her off. "He does, too....and he regrets it."  
  
She squinted at him. "And how do you know that?"  
  
He shrugged, holding up his paws in mock-defeat. "I just...know." He watched as she shrugged and turned away again. "And Alta?"  
  
"What...now?" she asked, turning again.  
  
"He was right to call you Empress." He was gone.  
  
Alta sighed and flopped down on the blanket, idly pawing at a teardrop, thinking over his last remark. She was up like a shot again in a moment, hurrying to the mouth of the pipe.  
  
Munkustrap was making his way down the junkpile, silhouetted by the moonlight. "Munkustrap!" she called.  
  
He turned. Alta smiled. "Thank you," she said, before disappearing into the pipe.  
  
Munkustrap smiled and headed for the main Junkyard.   



	12. Chapter Twelve-Reunited

Altaica's Story-Part Twelve-Reunited  
  
Author's note: Okie, Alta, Engle, Ocenir, Sarge, and Trista are MIIIINE, Ruffles and Truffles belong to L and Mell, the rest belong to RUG. The song is called I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables, and....well, enjoy!  
  
Alta rolled over, smiling in her sleep. A sliver of light shone through the opening of the pipe, but it wasn't enough to merit the start of another day. Her paw crept to the circlet that rested beside her head and she sat bolt upright, suddenly wide-awake.  
  
"Sarge?" she half-whispered in the dew of the morning.  
  
"Alta!!" he sounded weak, and the connection wasn't strong. She placed her head in her paws, fighting to strengthen the thread.  
  
"What happened to you? Are you alright?" she said both in her mind and aloud. Outside, Misto paused as he passed by the pipe on his early-morning rounds.  
  
His voice started fading "I...fine....Trist....she's hurt, Alta....she needs you...."  
  
"SARGE!" she cried, fighting with all her strength to reconnect. "SARGE! Who's got you?! SARGE!"  
  
"Can't.....Alta....come ho.." the connection broke. Alta hung her head, allowing tears to fall down her cheeks.   
  
"Sarge...." She whispered, staring out of the pipe entrance. She jumped when she saw a black-and0white face peek around the corner.  
  
"Hey, Alta," Misto said, picking his way into the pipe. "What's wrong?"  
  
"It's Sarge....he got through to me somehow, but it was too weak...it broke off," she muttered, fingering the circlet lightly.  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
Alta took a deep breath. "He said....that Trista's hurt, and she needs me....his last words were 'come home'."  
  
Misto sighed. "That bites," he said simply, and Alta had to nod. They sat in silence for a few moments before Alta looked up at Misto again.  
  
"Why'd you come here so early, Misto?"  
  
He sighed. "Well, Munkus told me about the...whole....Engle thing that you told him....hope you don't mind."  
  
"As long as the world doesn't know, I don't really care," she said flatly, looking over Misto's shoulder, out of the pipe.  
  
He nodded. "Right. Well...did you think about...you know...?"  
  
She locked eyes with him and when she spoke, it was in a whisper. "Did I think about whether or not I still love him? Yes.....and I'm still not certain. I mean...everything he did....but I think I stayed because I could remember him before..."  
  
Misto frowned. "But what about Ocenir?"  
  
Alta turned on him, her eyes blazing. "What about him?"  
  
Misto was taken aback, to say the least. "It's obvious that he adores you....." he said, as though speaking to a three-year-old.  
  
Alta rolled her eyes. "Haven't you heard? Love's a two-way street."  
  
Misto laughed, the laugh of someone who couldn't believe what they were hearing. "And you truly think that with Engle you had a two-way street? Open your eyes, Alta! He's dead and he never loved you!"  
  
Alta froze and her shoulders stiffened. Misto groaned. "Alta, I'm sorry.."  
  
"Get. Out." He had never heard her voice so cold. He backed toward the entrance, tripping over the blanket.  
  
"Alta, I didn't.."  
  
"OUT!" she screamed, whirling around with her claws extended. Misto fairly flew down the junkpile.  
  
  
Back in the pipe, Alta sat down heavily. What had she almost done? He was probably right....why spoil what she had?  
  
What did she have, really? A few friends, the awe of the Tribe....the kits, she thought, a smile coming to her lips. Ruffles and Truffles...nobody could make her laugh more than those two. And then there was Ocenir. Ocenir...who ever knew what was going on in his mind? He was closed up tighter than a tomb. Maybe he did adore her, but she was merely grateful to him for helping her so many times.  
  
She stood, reaching for a small sack. That's all she felt...gratitude. She wouldn't put him through that, she decided, beginning to place items in the sack. That's the most she could do for him...spare him some torture of the heart.  
  
She tied the neck of the sack into a tight knot before flinging it over her shoulder. A note...she should leave a note, she decided.  
  
Grabbing a broken ballpoint pen and a sheet of paper, she began to write.  
  
  
Across town, Engle smiled grimly. His recovery had gone well...stupid Jellicles, thinking that they could finish off the one and only Engle by merely dumping him in a pond! Horrendous imaginations...lacking brutality, he thought as he stood.  
  
He had made mistakes, he knew that now. He hadn't treated Altaica like she deserved to be treated. She truly was an Empress, he mused as he set off toward the Junkyard. She deserved to be treated like one...deserved his apology, even if he never said that he was sorry before...he was sorry now. He knew that he deserved to die....and that he should have, but he wouldn't...couldn't...not until she knew.  
  
I don't even care if she kills me on the spot, he mused as he carefully crossed a street. At least I'll die near her...  
  
  
Alta folded the note once, placing it in the center of the pipe. There, she thought. Nobody can miss it.   
  
She turned and left the pipe, staying in the shadows, heading for the airport.  
  
  
A soft knock sounded on the side of the empty pipe some time later. "Alta?" Ocenir asked, poking his head in.  
  
She wasn't there, but there was a single sheet of paper lying in the middle of the floor. He frowned and walked over, thinking that she had dropped it. He picked it up, and the idea started worming its way into his mind that she hadn't dropped it...she had left it.  
  
He sat on the blanket, unfolding the paper as he did so. He read it and his eyes grew wide. He leapt to his feet, the sheet of paper clutched in his paws. "MUNKUSTRAP!"   
  
The silver tabby looked up as Ocenir burst from Alta's pipe. The silver tabby looked up from where he was talking to Demeter. "What's wrong, 'Cenir?"  
  
"THIS!" Ocenir cried, shoving the paper under Munkustrap's nose. Munkus pushed it away a little for his eyes to adjust and began to read Alta's slanted handwriting.  
  
He looked up from the paper to see Ocenir standing there, anxious. He then turned to face the rest of the Jellicles that were in the yard at that point in time. "Has anyone spoken with Alta since last night?"   
  
Misto raised a paw. "I did, this morning. Early."  
  
"What did she say?"  
  
The black-and-white tom shrugged. "Sarge had gotten through somehow....said that Trista was hurt and needed Alta's help."  
  
Ocenir turned to Misto. "They're alive?"  
  
"Apparently. According to what Alta said, Trista needs help pretty badly. She wouldn't have gone to the wharves this time...she'd be going to the airport."  
  
Munkustrap nodded and was about to organize the Tribe into groups when a shout from the fence made them run over.  
  
Alonzo was attempting to keep a much larger black tom from entering the junkyard. Ocenir felt a growl low in his throat. "Engle! What are you doing here....not to mention doing alive?" he spat, motioning for some kittens to stay back.  
  
Of course, Ruffles and Truffles never listen anyway.  
  
"Hi uncie scary kitty-katty!" Truffles said, innocently bouncing around Ocenir.  
  
Ruffles appeared out of nowhere, surveying him from all angles. "HE'S A BOMB-LIKE OBJECT! TAKE COVEEEEEEER!"  
  
Truffles gasped and ran up a tree. Ruffles found a hacksaw and began to cut the tree down. "Take cover means hit the ground, you eejit!"  
  
Truffles hit the ground....with the tree on top of her.  
  
While Tugger cautiously checked to see if the kits were okay, Munkustrap turned back to Engle. "If you've come for Alta, you're too late."  
  
Engle frowned. "What do you mean, too late? She's not dead, is she?"  
  
Misto slipped through the crowd, heading back to where Munkustrap had dropped the note. Nobody noticed. Ocenir spoke to Engle again.  
  
"No, not dead. Gone. Besides, even if she were here, we wouldn't let you within ten feet of her. What do you think, boys? Should we kill him here and now?"  
  
Engle sighed and looked away. "Then I'm too late."  
  
"Too late to kill her? You bet..."  
  
Engle whipped around and glared at the insolent patched tom, who flinched. "No, not to kill her, you twisted little boy!"  
  
Ocenir growled again, and Munkustrap grabbed his arm before he did something rather stupid. "Then what?" the tabby asked kindly, shooting a warning glance at Ocenir.  
  
"To...make it up to her, somehow?"  
  
Ocenir laughed, a hard, metallic sound. "How were you gonna manage that one, big fella? Suicide?"  
  
Engle shrugged. "Sounds good to me about now."  
  
  
Misto crept away from the small gathering on the edge of the yard, hoping that the wind hadn't gotten a chance to blow the note away.  
  
He found it about three or four feet from where Munkus had set it down. A light wind had blown it against a toaster. Misto grabbed the note and climbed into a detergent box for privacy while he read it.  
  
"Dear friends,  
  
I've decided to leave. Don't come after me, please, someone back home needs my help. I may come back someday, but Misto was right...I've been stupid. I need to get away, and I suppose that home is the only place to go. I love you all very much, and I'll never forget you.  
  
-Altaica.  
  
p.s. Tugger, watch out for Ruffles and Truffles for me."  
  
Misto sighed and folded the note. "I wasn't right, I was wrong," he murmured before climbing out of the box. "And she isn't going alone."  
  
  
Alta was nearing the airport when another connection broke through to her. "Alta!" Sarge's mind-voice called again for the second time that day.  
  
"SARGE! I'm coming!"  
  
"NO! Alta, don't! Trista's fine, he made me say that..."  
  
"WHO? Who made you, Sarge? SARGE?"  
  
"Alta...." Was all he said before the connection was broken again.  
  
"Sarge..." she whispered, dropping the sack with her belongings. She sat by the fence, looking up at the runway. She could go home still...she was so close, and Misto was right....or...  
  
She looked over her shoulder in the direction of the junkyard. Was Boston still her home? She'd been away for so long...a year at least! Would she still know her way around?  
  
She sat by the fence, staying in place although the sun was setting. Where should she go? Engle was still alive....she could feel it in her bones...and in her heart.   
  
"Do I love him?" she whispered to the stars. She bowed her head, tears flowing into the thick fur at her neck. "Yes...."  
  
She sat there for a long time, not caring if anyone came for her. She could become one of the strays, or find a wealthy owner. Something. Anything.   
  
She started talking to herself. "Maybe I really am going insane.....maybe nobody does care," she said, watching the progress of the newest plane down the runway. She remembered things from long ago....she remembered songs that her mother had taught her in her childhood. One was especially prominent.... "Mama sang it a lot," she said, remembering with a smile.  
  
She stood, hefting the sack once more, walking down the fence. She dragged her fingers along the chain links, looking to the stars as she began to sing.  
  
"There was a time when men were kind.   
When their voices were soft and their words inviting.   
There was a time when love was blind   
when the world was a song and the song was exciting...   
there was a time, then it all went wrong!   
  
"I dreamed a dream in time gone by.   
When hope was high and life worth living   
I dreamed that love would never die!   
I dreamed that God would be forgiving.   
  
"Then I was young and unafraid   
and dreams were made and used and wasted   
There was no ransom to be paid   
No song unsung no wine untasted.   
  
"But the tigers come at night   
with their voices soft as thunder   
as they tear your hope apart   
as thy tear your dream to shame!   
  
"He slept a summer by my side   
he filled my days with endless wonder   
he took my childhood in his stride   
but he was gone when autumn came!   
  
"And still I dream he'll come to me!   
That we will live the years together   
but there are dreams that cannot be   
and there are storms we cannot weather...   
  
"I had a dream my life would be so different   
from this hell I'm living, so different   
now from what it seemed!   
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed....."  
  
She sat with her back to the fence, tears flowing down her cheeks once more. "Mamma, did you know?" she whispered harshly, looking to the sky once more. "Did you know that what happened to you would happen to me, too?"  
  
  
It was dark at the Junkyard, also. Engle wanted to help search for Alta, but Ocenir put it rather bluntly that he was going to do no such thing. Misto stayed behind, also...nobody noticed.  
  
The search parties had left, some towards the inner city and some towards the docks. Nobody left for the airport. Engle sat in a corner of the Junkyard...nobody noticed. Misto crept over to him and sat beside him.  
  
"Where's she gone?" Engle asked quietly, his voice choked with unknown tears.  
  
Misto bowed his head with a sigh. Wearily, he rubbed his temples. "I believe that she's gone to the airport....but nobody believes me, and I'm not sure if she's gone already...."  
  
Engle sprang to his feet. "Well, we can check, can't we?" he asked, almost eagerly.  
  
Misto rose more slowly. "Yes, I suppose we could..." he said, and the two departed.  
  
  
It was nearing dawn when the search parties left the docks empty-handed. A sliver of red light was on the horizon when the parties met again at the Junkyard.  
  
"Where's Misto?" Munkustrap asked, looking around the sleeping Junkyard.  
  
"For that matter, where's Engle?" Ocenir asked sharply.  
  
"You don't think that Engle...." Tantomile began.  
  
"Nah, Misto could zap himself out quick enough," Coricopat assured her.   
  
"So...where'd they go?" Munkustrap asked again, looking out across the street.  
  
Coricopat frowned and closed his eyes. "The airport," he announced finally.  
  
"The...airport?"  
  
The dark tom nodded. "And if we want to fins Alta...that's where we should go, too."  
  
The group looked at each other for a moment before they were off again, this time heading for the large airport. It was a long trip.  
  
  
Alta watched as the sun dawned over the airport. She hadn't moved from the spot she had assumed after realizing what her mother's song had meant, and she intended to stay there.  
  
Misto and Engle turned the corner and saw her there, curled up with her head resting on her knee. Engle felt faint. "I can't do this," he muttered, starting to back away. Misto had explained the whole situation to him on the way.  
  
Misto sighed. "Sure you can. If you don't, she goes back to the patched boy scout," he muttered, casting a glance over his shoulder. They were coming....  
  
Engle nodded. "Right....come with me?" he begged.  
  
"Sure. I'll come. Let's just get this over with," Misto said, half-pushing the larger tom toward the fence.  
  
Alta stirred and looked up as they drew closer. Seeing her eyes as they looked made Engle falter. They were still enormous and dark blue, but they were empty. Devoid of feeling. Even the terror...it was gone.  
  
Misto saw it too and nearly cried. Alta's eyes wee always full of SOMETHING, but now...they were flat. Still....he knew that she had decided, and that she knew now. What she knew, Misto didn't know, but there was a slender chance...  
  
Engle fell onto his knees about two feet from Alta. "Alta, I...." His voice cracked and he looked swiftly at the ground. "Oh, Bast, I'm so sorry! I don't care what you do with me....let them kill me for all I care! I wanted you...needed you to know that I never stopped loving you....never! It was the alcohol, it was! Sorry doesn't begin to say...it wasn't me, I swear! Alta..." she cut him off by edging forward slightly.  
  
"Engle...." She said softly, laughter starting to edge her quavering voice. "Whatever happens and whatever you need to say, you always need to look me in the eye."  
  
He looked up then, his golden eyes meeting her blue. Her eyes weren't blank anymore, but full of something...something he hadn't seen since he was young. He nearly broke down, but he swallowed hard and continued on.  
  
"Alta....oh, Bast, this is going to come out sounding like a cheesy Hallmark greeting card, but.....I love you, I truly do." He reached past her to where the circlet lay on the ground. She had flung it away during some point of the night, and he picked it up gently, almost crying. She had kept it through everything that happened....he came back around and held it out to her.  
  
"Altaica....I love you more now than I ever have before," he began, turning the circlet over in his paws. "And I understand completely if you hate me and would love seeing me dead in the street....but...if you want...." He sighed deeply. "We could just be...Engle and Alta again...Empress."  
  
Alta reached out, touching his face gently with her paws. "There will be no Empire, no drinking, no drugs, no catnip," she began.  
  
"None," he said, looking up at her, begging.  
  
"Just...." She swallowed hard. "Just us."  
  
"Just us," Engle whispered, bringing the circlet up to rest it on her head. "Empress."  
  
`"Engle," she whispered, the tears in her eyes overflowing as she felt his embrace again. It had been too long since he was himself...too long since she had loved him, even though she always had. She heard an amplified sniff from partway down the hill, and they broke apart, laughing.  
  
Misto wiped his eyes. "What? Can't I cry too?"  
  
"Of course you can," Alta said, going over to hug him, also.  
  
Misto grinned cheekily and pretended to faint, causing more laughs.  
  
"Uh-oh..." Engle said suddenly from the fence.  
  
"Spaghettiohs," Alta and Misto added in a monotone.  
  
That stopped Engle for a moment. "Say what?"  
  
Alta waved a paw. "You'll understand at the Junkyard. What's the problem?"  
  
Engle pointed. "We've got company...."  
  
The search party was coming around the corner, a wave of Jellicles perfectly willing to tear Engle to shreds. Alta and Misto stood slowly, and Engle hefted the sack. Misto took it form him with a smile.  
  
"They won't attack me, but they will you," Misto explained as the wave came to a stop at the bottom of the hill.   
  
Engle stepped down to stand beside Alta. He took her paw and squeezed it gently. She sighed. "I guess it's time to face the music..."  
  
Engle smiled. "Misto, you go first...." The smaller tom nodded and started down the hill.  
  
"Facing the music is better with two than one," Engle said, helping Alta down the hill. "Empress."  
  
Alta nodded and lifted her head. One of the sapphire teardrops caught the light of the rising sun, and a gasp echoed through the crowd. Ocenir at front looked furious.  
  
"Come, Engle....I think we owe an explanation."  
  
He smiled and they came to a stop before the crowd. It would be hard to explain, and many wouldn't understand...but Misto did, and Munkustrap looked as if he knew and accepted it, and Ocenir would some day. Alta paused before speaking to collect her thoughts.   
  
'Thank you, Mamma....it all worked out for me as well,' she thought before beginning to address her Tribe.  



	13. Chapter Thirteen-Unexpected Sorrow

Altaica's Story-Part Thirteen  
Unexpected Sorrow  
  
Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, okay, you know the drill...Alta, Ocenir, and Engle belong to me, the rest of them belong to RUG.....the plot is mine, I suppose...well....just enjoy! Hehe you may not exactly like the outcome of this one....  
  
  
Ocenir sat, glowering, in the box that he had moved into when Alta came back to the Junkyard. He watched as Engle crept up behind Alta in the pipe, heard her soft laughter as he kissed her. Then, the sheet was drawn across the mouth of the pipe and the candle stub extinguished.  
  
He scooted back farther into the box as a cold wind picked up. It was a disgrace...Engle being accepted into the tribe after all he had done to Alta, and then moving in with her! They were the only non-mated pair who lived together, and although there were faint mumbling among some of the elders, nobody else seemed to mind much. Nobody except him, of course.  
  
He drew away from a puddle of water forming on the floor of the box with a sigh. It was nearing spring, if the heavier-than-usual rains were any sort of a clue. They seemed to be, since the number of newly mated pairs was increasing every day. Everyone had someone else...everyone except him.  
  
For a moment, the sky looked as if it were about to burst, but the rain held back and the clouds cleared. Ocenir peeked outside, estimating the amount of time till the next storm before climbing from the box. He was restless today, standing and stretching before walking away from what he had come to think of as his post. A walk would do him good.  
  
  
Alta moaned softly as Engle's lips met hers again, running her hands across his firmly muscled chest. She was learning to trust him again, to love him. They were walking on eggshells with the tribe, but as a couple? As a couple, they were as good as on concrete.  
  
She caught his paw as it began to wander slightly. "Engle," she said warningly.  
  
"Mmmmmmwhat?" he mumbled, kissing down her neck.  
  
"You know what," she said with a smile, moving his paw again.  
  
He sighed. "Fine, fine.....you don't need to give me the lecture this time," he said before kissing her again.  
  
"I'm worried about my reputation is all," she mumbled around his lips.  
  
He kissed her once more before standing. "I know, I know. Tell you what...I need to go and talk to Misto about something....an afternoon separated, eh? It'll give us both time to think."  
  
Alta nodded, standing and stretching. Engle's eyes glittered hungrily before he came around behind her to hug her around the waist. She pulled him off with a smile, half-pushing him out of the door.  
  
Their reunion had been quick and passionate, and somehow they'd been able to forget past years. They truly belonged together, most of the Tribe could see that. Some were too old and too set in their ways, but the rest seemed fine....except for Ocenir.  
  
Alta flicked the curtain aside, surprised to see that the box was empty. She soon saw his tall, patched form working its way to the entrance, and she smiled inwardly. Good, he was getting out more...getting over it. She pulled the curtain across the rest of the way and started down toward the main Yard, smiling happily. Life was good.  
  
  
Macavity narrowed his eyes from where he sat on a window ledge in his apartment. Since that striped chick had arrived in the Junkyard, most of his plans had been thwarted by the combined threat of her and those two devil-kittens. He lay his head down upon his paws. Life was dull.  
  
He surveyed the patched tom named Ocenir as he approached the window. Mac raised his eyes to glance at the lock on the window, which released with a soft click. Standing and stretching, the ginger-furred tom leapt out of the window to stand in the street beside Ocenir.  
  
"So, 'Cenir....long time no crime," Macavity said, sizing up the slightly larger tom. "How's the honesty business?"  
  
Ocenir chose not to answer this. "What have you been up to, Mac?"  
  
The ginger tom growled low in his throat. "Nothing since that striped whore and her gang of psychotic kittens gave me the 'keep out for your own good' speech...."  
  
Ocenir snickered and leapt onto the top of a garbage can. "Yeah, well, just thought you'd like to know..."  
  
"Like to know what?"  
  
"Engle's back."  
  
Mac raised an eyebrow so high that it disappeared into his headfur. "Where's he staying?"  
  
Ocenir glanced down and muttered something. Mac leaned forward. "Come again?"  
  
Ocenir's head snapped up, his eyes narrowed to slits. "He's. Living. With. Alta."  
  
Mac frowned. He had never been too fond of the queen, but he knew Ocenir was. "Right. Well, "cenir....I'd say something, but I don't know what to say, so I won't." he was gone a split second later, leaping back into the window.  
  
Ocenir sighed. Now he truly had no one to talk to outside of the Junkyard...he didn't know what he had been playing at, thinking that Macavity would have advice of all things. He turned, whiskers drooping slightly, and padded back to the Junkyard.  
  
  
Engle poked his head cautiously into the box where Misto made his home. "Hello? Mistoffelees?" he called out softly.  
  
Misto looked up from the back. "Engle? Something wrong?" he placed a couple of things aside and beckoned for him to enter.  
  
Engle ducked and came in, his tall frame barely squeezing into the smaller cat's home. "I was just wondering....well....I was thinking of asking Alta about....eh..."  
  
Misto smiled. "I believe that humans have a slightly more delicate term for it than we do...to be your wife?" he asked gently.  
  
If you could have seen it through the fur, Engle was blushing. "Eh....sounds about right," he mumbled, looking at his feet.  
  
Misto smiled and would have spoke if the patched tom had not appeared at the doorway at that very moment. "Ocenir?"   
  
Ocenir froze as Engle turned. "Never mind, Misto....I can see that you're busy," he said stiffly before turning and fairly flying down the junkpile.  
  
  
Alta was talking with Demeter when she spied Ocenir looking quite like he had a rabid Pollicle on his heels. "Something wrong, "cenir?" she called out, almost like a reflex action.  
  
The patched tom jumped, almost as though she had struck him. "No, nothing," he managed to stutter out before darting behind a pile of junk.  
  
Demeter shook her head. "I can see now why you chose Engle over him...I mean, at first I didn't believe it, but Ocenir's been acting so STRANGE lately..."  
  
Alta punched her lightly in the shoulder. "I haven't chosen anyone yet! But I can see your angle....believe me, I never thought that I could trust Engle again....I thought that I'd stay with Ocenir, but now..."  
  
Demeter smiled. "I think that you're better off with Engle, really...Ocenir's too...too...."  
  
"Hill-billy-ish." Bombalurina put in as she sauntered over.  
  
Altaica laughed lightly and shook her head. "You two are so awful! But you're pretty accurate...I mean, I just couldn't go back to that...boy scout!"  
  
Bombalurina snickered. "You can't be insulting boy scouts when Demi's around, Alta....remember, Munkus is the biggest Boy Scout to walk the earth...YEOW! Demi! Watch it with the elbows!"  
  
The three queens laughed, and, behind the junkpile, Ocenir cringed as their laughter hit them. That's what they really thought of him? Well....there had to be someone here that appreciated him! He set off at a rapid pace as thunder boomed overhead.  
  
  
"Buuuuuuuuut Ruffles...."  
  
"Truffles, I'm telling you, if you cover yourself in this aluminum foil and stand outside flying a kite, you'll never get hit by lightning again!"  
  
Truffles narrowed her eyes at her sister. "You promise that I won't get electry-kay-uted this time?"  
  
Ruffles sighed. "I promise. Here, tie this key to the string for good measure..."  
  
Ocenir glanced behind the oven and, despite his foul mood, cracked a large smile. Truffles was so completely encased in tinfoil that she looked like a leftover meatloaf, and Ruffles was tying a key to the string of a kite, forcing the end of the string into Truffles' paw.  
  
"Uncie Funny-Looking-Tom!" Truffles cried, waving the kite string around.  
  
Ruffles eyed him carefully. "Uncie Funny-Looking-Tom? You look all deadified....so, d'you want to cover yourself in tinfoil too?"  
  
Ignoring this, Ocenir plopped his head onto his paws. "I should have never been born," he mumbled to himself.  
  
"Agreed," Ruffles said, tightening the knot on the key.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Ruffles looked at him like he had less of a brain than Truffles. "I was agreeing with you. You never should have been born..."  
  
Truffles took over. "I mean, ouah Auntie Altie hates you, and we looooooove our Auntie Altie, and Bast knows that WE'VE never liked you..."  
  
"And Tugger says that you're a sad little bastard..." Ruffles added, looping a little more tinfoil around Truffles' tail.  
  
Ocenir stood. He didn't need to take this from two little kittens....he plodded off, heading for the train station. There, he knew, Skimbleshanks would have a cup of tea for him, and a friendly orange ear to listen.  
  
  
Engle approached Alta cautiously. "Alta?" he said, ignoring the first raindrops of the storm.  
  
She turned, still laughing, headfur getting slightly plastered down from the storm. A raindrop was perfectly balanced on her nose, and her eyes had taken on a darker shade of blue, as they always did when there was a storm. The smile faded from her face as she took in Engle's serious demeanor. "Engle? What's wrong?" she asked, becoming concerned.  
  
Bast, she's beautiful, Engle though, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Nothing's wrong, Alta. I've never been happier," he said, taking her paws.  
  
Slightly confused, Alta glanced back at her friends, and then up at Engle. Slowly, activity ground to a halt as the cats of the Tribe took in the scene unfolding. "Then what?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably.  
  
"Alta, I love you, and....."  
  
"And?" she smiled teasingly, raindrops lightly clinging to her fur.  
  
"Alta......in the Human's world, when two Mate they become husband and wife. Will you.....be mine?"  
  
Alta hesitated. Did she love him?....yes. She knew that she did, now, after time. She looked at him, holding her hands out, palms cupped. "What can you put in these hands?"  
  
He took her hands, kissing the palms. "My love and devotion," he began.  
  
She touched his face gently. "Love and devotion are wispy, Engle," she whispered.  
  
"Rays of the sun and beams of the moon," he finished, bringing his own paw over hers.  
  
"Two opposites to fulfill one Destiny," Alta murmured. "I am yours, forever."  
  
"Forever." Engle repeated, kissing her soundly.   
  
There was hardly a dry eye among the Tribe as the two broke the kiss, smiling in the rain. Suddenly, thunder boomed overhead, sending the cats fleeing for cover. It was amazing that they had stayed in the rain for as long as they had to begin with.  
  
Inside an overturned trash can, Alta turned to Engle. "Skimble will want to know," she said.  
  
"In this weather?"  
  
"Why not?" she countered, and the two darted from shelter to shelter on the way to the station. Several others paused for a moment before following. The train station was a lot warmer and dryer than the junk heaps, anyway.  
  
  
"Well, me boy," Skimble said, looking at Ocenir as they lapped up some cream from a saucer. "There's nothing tae dae but tell the lass."  
  
Ocenir sighed. "It's so difficult, what with tall, dark, and ugly hanging around...."  
  
Skimble chortled as several of the Tribe entered, Alta and Engle in the lead.  
  
"Uncle!" Alta cried, skidding across the floor slightly.  
  
"Och, lassie, whit have ye done to yeerself?" Skimble asked, standing and jerking a towel off of a chair. "Ye're soaked tae the bone!"  
  
Alta giggled and sneezed a little. "Well, we wanted to get over here right away, to tell you the good news," she said, taking Engle's paw.  
  
"We're Mated," Engle said, giving Alta a glowing look. She smiled ecstatically, and the others held their breath.  
  
Skimble smiled happily and embraced the two, jumping as Ocenir's voice sounded coldly from behind him.  
  
"No, you aren't!"  
  
Alta looked at Engle swiftly and then at the patched tom. "What are you on about, Ocenir?" she asked nervously.  
  
"Have you miraculously forgotten what he did to you and to everyone else? To me?"  
  
Alta's eyes were blazing. "Why should I forget, when you're around to remind me?" she snapped. Ocenir recoiled slightly, but the queen was on the warpath. "Just because everyone ELSE is finding happiness doesn't mean that you have to be sulking around like some sort of circus clown gone wrong! Tell ya what, why don't you go to the clue store and BUY ONE!"  
  
Everyone was shocked, but none more than Ocenir. "Is that how you feel?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Yes, you fricken Boy Scout, it is!" she snapped.  
  
He turned then and walked out onto the train platform, staring down the line. Everyone hurried after him, unsure of what he was going to do.  
  
As a train whistle sounded from around a bend, Ocenir turned back to Altaica.  
  
"Whether you care or not, Alta, I love you. Goodbye."  
  
"Ocenir!" Alta cried as the patched tom turned and flung himself out onto the tracks, right under the wheels of the train.  
  
The tribe stood in shock, tears streaming down many a face. Alta buried her head in Engle's chest, turning slightly back to the tracks to whisper, "Goodbye...."   



	14. Chapter Fourteen-The Truth

Altaica's Story-Part 14-The Truth  
  
Author's Note: OKay, Altaica, Engle, and Ocenir belong to me, Ruffles and Truffles belong to L and Mell. The story is miiiiiiiiiine! so yeah. Enjoy!! please review!!  
  
  
  
  
The train rumbled past, inches away from the patched tom's nose. He slowed his breathing, even as he listened with a slightly sadistic smile to the hysterics above, and watched as the train disappeared from his line of sight. He inches backwards, not willing to be seen as Skimbleshanks peered at the tracks from above.  
  
"Strange," he heard the tabby's highland burr say. "There dinnae seem tae be any remains of the poor wee boy...." Skimble's voice faded away, as did the voices of the others, as Ocenir continued back.  
  
Of course there wouldn't be any remains! As if he's actually kill himself. Of course, none truly knew who the patched tom was. They assumed him to be some country bumpkin, infatuated with Altaica and simple-minded. Mere brute force, no real talents or uses. He snickered softly, even as a pair of dark-gold eyes flickered into existence behind him.  
  
"Just as we planned. I see that you haven't lost your touch, Ocenir," said a cool, sophisticated voice cultured to send chills down your spine.   
  
Ocenir turned, his green eyes meeting the gold. "Thank you, Macavity. Is everything in order?"  
  
Mac smiled and stepped closer. "Most everything. However... what do you want to do about that black cat? After all, from what I've heard he's a hardened criminal..." he trailed off as Ocenir held up a paw.  
  
"Engle? Hardened criminal? Hardly likely. Engle as a kitten would rather prance around in a meadow and pick flowers than organize a business. However, his looks suited the job, so I took care of it for him."  
  
Mac was puzzled. "How?"  
  
Ocenir smiled, his lips curling up to show a flash of fang. "He was so gullible, really, it was nothing to make him believe that he was a crimelord. I started him off gradually at first, but eventually I just gave him the full blow of hypnotism...he was completely under my control. Everything that he did had been planned carefully, to turn Altaica against him and-"  
  
"To you," Mac said in admiration. The larger tom nodded.  
  
"Precisely. And it worked. Alta began believing Engle to be evil, particularly after he raped her. I figured that she'd willingly come with me then, but no. I offered to take her away, but she got suspicious....she was ashamed of what had happened and hadn't told a soul. She just told me, rather shortly, that Engle was suffering from overwork."  
  
Mac chortled. "OVERWORK? As if that powderpuff ever thought up anything in his life!"  
  
Ocenir chuckled. "Honestly! Anyway, I waited for a little while, and, eventually, I had Engle begin beating her. Even then, it took her some time to come to me, but eventually, she did. And we came here."  
  
"Did anyone ever suspect that you were controlling Engle?" Mac asked. If Ocenir was as good as he said he was...  
  
"No one. Even Sarge couldn't, and that's his job. Alta couldn't either. Even Engle had no clue. When we arrived here, I lost my hold on Engle...I didn't expect for him to follow. "  
  
Mac nodded. "What happened when Engle did arrive?"  
  
Ocenir laughed softly. "I found him and shocked him into being evil again...but it was too soon, too strong. He hurt her too much, and together Altaica's brother and I tipped him into a pond..."  
  
Mac held up a paw. "Hold on! I thought that Munkustrap helped you do that."  
  
Ocenir hardly blinked. "Like I said. Alta's brother."  
  
Mac raised his eyebrows. "This'll be convenient. Does she know?"  
  
"No. May I continue?"  
  
"By all means," Mac said, fascinated.  
  
"Thank you. I didn't expect for the git to survive, so I withdrew all spells from him. Respect for the dead, you know? Well.... it apparently pulled him back and allowed him to live again."  
  
"So when he came back to the junkyard..."  
  
Ocenir sighed. "It took me years to make him a shadow of evil in the first place, and look at what happened when I attempted it all at once! I couldn't do anything. So....here I am. Will you take me?"  
  
Macavity laughed maniacally. He had, of course, decided about halfway through Ocenir's story. "And will you get him again?"  
  
"I'll try."  
  
Mac raised an eyebrow, and Ocenir smiled in response.  
  
"And succeed."  
  
  
  
Altaica sat, stony-faced, near the front of the gathering of Jellicles. Engle was beside her, his arm around her shoulders, and Misto holding her other paw. Vicki was near Misto, and Demeter sat with Bomba and Tugger behind the others. Munkustrap was on the tire, addressing the tribe about Ocenir's death.   
  
Ruffles and Truffles were attempting to be civil for Alta's case, but that was like asking an egg to grow hair. Eventually they just wandered off, Ruffles finding a can of maroon paint and amusing herself by flicking it at various members of the gathering.  
  
Alonzo flinched as the paint hit him, and rubbed the back of his head as he felt another bit hit him. He turned, but there was nobody visible, as Ruffles was booking it back to where Truffles stood, mesmerized.   
  
Ruffles stood and looked over Truffles' shoulder. "Whatcha looking at?"  
  
"Look at that weeeeeird-looking kitty-katty, y'all!" Truffles whispered.  
  
Ruffles decided not to tell Truffles that she was looking in the dented surface of an aluminum pan and glanced around. She caught sight of a large form half-hidden in the shadows near the Tire, but behind the rest of the tribe.  
  
"Truffles," Ruffles said, not bothering to be quiet.   
  
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?"  
  
"Look over-" but the figure was gone.  
  
"What're you talking about, y'all?" Truffles asked, deeply puzzled. It didn't take much to puzzle her.  
  
Ruffles squinted. "Forget it."  
  
  
Alta and Engle were walking back to Jemi's pipe after the service when they were found by Ruffles. It was rare for the kit to be without her counterpart, and Alta blinked when she saw just Ruffles, without "-and Truffles".  
  
"Ruffles? Something wrong?" she asked mildly.  
  
Ruffles seemed nervous and not at all like she normally did. The kits were growing up, Alta realized with a pang. Truffles would likely always remain a little kittenish, and Ruffles and Truffles would likely always be a pair. But still....  
  
Ruffles cleared her throat. "This afternoon, during the service? There was someone in the shadows, watching. Watching you, Auntie Altie," she said, the affectionate nickname eerily out of place in the solemn dialogue. "And I think it was Ocenir."  
  
Alta frowned. They hadn't found a body....something flickered in her mind but was gone quickly. "Ruffles, Ocenir's dead," she said, for lack of a better response.  
  
Ruffles bowed her head. "Right. I just thought you should know. Good night, Auntie Altie," she said, turning and running down the junkpile to the suitcase that she shared with Truffles.  
  
Engle and Alta hurried into the pipe before Alta turned her eyes to Engle. "Do you think it could be true? Could he have lived?" she whispered urgently.   
  
He sighed. "I don't know. Look, try not to think about it for awhile," he murmured, kissing her soundly.   
  
Alta was too tired to protest and instead wrapped her arms around his neck, flicking the curtain shut as they dropped to the blankets.  
  
  
  
Alta awoke early, carefully dislodging Engle from where he was wrapped around her and stretching before heading down to the main Junkyard. She had thought about what Ruffles had told her the night before, and decided to go to Munkustrap about it. She didn't know what it was, but something about Munkus told her that she could tell him anything.   
  
She found the silver tabby on the hood of the old Ford, watching as the Junkyard awoke. She leapt up lightly beside him, his green eyes glancing at her briefly. She took this as a sign to speak.  
  
"Ruffles came to me last night about something that I thought I should relay to you..."  
  
A silver eyebrow shot up. "Ruffles? No Ruffles and Truffles?"  
  
She laughed. "I know, I thought the same thing. But yes, just Ruffles."  
  
"Well. Do continue."  
  
"They think that they saw Ocenir at the memorial service."  
  
A shiver passed through Munkustrap. There hadn't been a body....but still, nobody except the Hidden Paw himself would know how to survive a leap in front of a train. "Alta, don't be ridiculous. There's no way Ocenir could be alive," he said shortly.  
  
Alta stiffened. "You don't have to be so stingy about it, Munkus," she said, lashing her tail about angrily. "I was just telling you what Ruffles saw."  
  
He exhaled slowly. "Right. I'm sorry I snapped, Taica, it's just....with Ocenir's death and everything...."  
  
She smiled. "I know," she said softly, rubbing his back. "I know."  
  
They sat in silence for a moment, watching Ruffles, Truffles, Electra, and Etcetera playing in the main square of the Yard. Alta stood eventually, mumbling something about getting back to the pipe.  
  
  
Engle rubbed Alta's back, kneading out the stiffness in her muscles. "And he doesn't believe you?"  
  
"No," she said with a sigh. "He doesn't. Nor does anyone else." She had asked around, and nobody seemed to believe that Ocenir could have lived. "He said that nobody except the Hidden Paw could pull that off."  
  
Something stirred in Engle's memory then, something dark. "None other than the Hidden Paw, eh?" he said, trying to keep his voice neutral.  
  
Alta swiveled around slowly. "Don't think I can't find that little planning note in your voice, Engle. What are you thinking of trying to do NOW?"  
  
He kissed her gently and moved to the pipe entrance. "I'm going to Mac's apartment."  
  
"WHAT?!" she screeched in a combination of fear and fury. "Are you completely out of your furry black mind?"  
  
"Maybe, but you knew that when you Mated with me," he said, coming back to kiss her knuckles. "If you want to know the truth, I have to go."  
  
Alta sniffled, a single tear creeping down her cheek. Engle hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry about me, Taica, I'll be careful...and I'll be back."  
  
She pulled away a little, a smile toying with her mouth. "I don't care how careful you say you'll be, I'm going to worry all the same..."  
  
He laughed softly and kissed her. They looked at each other for a few moments, and then he turned and left.  
  
Alta slid down against the wall of the pipe, tears spilling down her cheeks. "What is WITH me lately?" she wondered aloud, wiping her cheeks dry. She glanced quickly in the mirror, assuring herself that her eyes weren't red, before heading down to the Junkyard.  
  
  
"Very good, Engle," Ocenir commented as he and Mac circled the chair that the black tom was tied to. "You figured it out. Give the tom a prize."  
  
Engle glared, but the gag prevented him from saying anything as Mac delivered a vicious uppercut to Engle's jaw.  
  
"Now, let's see..." Ocenir continued, eyes gleaming. "What ARE we going to do with you?"  
  
Mac looked Engle up and down. "I could use some slave labor," he said dryly, smiling sadistically as Engle began to struggle against the ropes that held him.  
  
Ocenir raised an eyebrow. "Very well," he said, leaning forward to look at Engle. They locked eyes, Engle's hard and gold, Ocenir's cold and green. Engle's eyes widened as Ocenir's eyes began spinning and taking on a reddish hue...  
  
Alta.....Engle thought desperately, struggling against the ropes even as he lost thought and his actions weakened. Alta.....  
  
Mac looked at the limp black tom with his eyebrows raised. "Very good, Ocenir. Very good."  
  
Ocenir stood, somewhat disgusted. "His Mating with Alta barred me from changing him completely....he's pretty much a walking zombie right now and shouldn't be retaining any memory."  
  
Mac turned to walk out, motioning for Ocenir to follow. "It'll do for now."  
  
  
Alta flopped down on the hood of the old Ford for the second time that day, this time, however, Munkustrap and Demeter were both present.  
  
"Alta, are you okay? You look awful!"  
  
Alta laughed. "Thanks for the inspiration, Dem."  
  
"You do look a little tired, Taica. And you've put on a little weight..." Munkustrap chimed in.  
  
Alta glared at him. "Remind me to beat your sorry hide next time I have a spurt of energy. Or, even better...." She paused, a wicked grin gleaming over her features, and Munkustrap knew what was coming. "RUFF..." she was cut off as a silver paw clamped over her mouth.  
  
Demeter snickered. "Munkus, let this be a lesson to you...never comment on a queen's weight, especially a queen with Ruffles and Truffles at her disposal."  
  
Alta snickered through Munkustrap's hand, and he let go guiltily. "Sorry, Taica...."  
  
"But really, Alta, maybe you should go see Jennyany or something. You don't look like you're feeling well."  
  
Alta smiled. "I just might. Thanks for your BRILLIANT observations, you two..." she said, jumping down from the car as gently as she could manage.  
  
She arrived at the oven, suppressing a grin as she saw a frazzled Jennyanydots dealing with Ruffles and Truffles. "Ruff, Truff, go bother Munkustrap. I need to talk to Jenny, and besides, he has it coming to him anyway."  
  
"Oh boy oh boy, y'all, we get to go bother Munkustrap, y'all!" Truffles cried joyfully. Ruffles picked up a stick that she had spotted nearby and set off with an evil glint in her eye. All traces of her seriousness from the night before were gone, and now she was just Ruffles again.  
  
"Yes, dearie, what's the problem?" Jenny asked, looking frazzled.   
  
She shrugged. "Munkus and Demeter sent me over. I've been kinda tired lately, and irritable and such, and Munkustrap said some ridiculous thing about gaining weight...." She trailed off as Jenny smiled widely. "What's so amusing?"  
  
"My dear, you're pregnant, that's all!" Jenny said, gently squeezing Alta's shoulders.  
  
"-What?"  
  
"Expecting? With kitten?" Jenny said happily. "You'd better tell Engle," the gumbie cat said, ushering Alta to the door.  
  
"...Right," Alta said faintly as she stepped outside. The timing just couldn't be worse, could it? she thought bitterly. Isn't this just peachy?  
  
  
Engle had remained unconscious for two full days after Ocenir had hypnotized him, trying desperately to pull back into the realm of the living. Something was wrong with Alta, he could sense it. Eventually he forced his eyes open, and it was immediately clear to Ocenir, who happened to be in the room, that something had gone wrong. The black tom's eyes were still bright gold, not dulled and lifeless as they should be. He appeared to have all of his wits about him as he climbed out of the chair.  
  
The black tom stalked to Ocenir, the patched tom too shocked to react. The black paw was around Ocenir's throat, slamming him against the wall, choking him.  
  
"You bastard." Engle's voice was hoarse and dangerously low. "You took me away from Alta-again-and now you're going to let me go back, understood?"  
  
Ocenir could only make small, choked noises, all the while wondering how his plan had gone wrong. Something in Engle's Mating bond with Altaica had clearly cut through the hypnotism. He struck out with a fist, catching Engle in the gut and causing the black tom to drop him.  
  
They circled each other, Engle holding back until Ocenir made the first charge. Engle darted to the side, claws out and catching on Ocenir's ear. Engle winced at the sight of blood under his claws, and of Ocenir's ear hanging in tatters. You must bear in mind that Engle had actually never fought before, his body had. The actual spirit had not.  
  
Ocenir screamed for "Maaaaaaaac!" even as he lifted Engle to throw him against the wall. He couldn't restrain the taller tom by himself, not when he was so clearly fired up.  
  
The ginger tom walked in as Engle went flying by at eye level to slam into a wall. "What the hell?" He wondered aloud, cursing again as Engle stood again and charged out of the door past him.  
  
A short wrestling match in the living room and a tranquilizer later, Engle had been locked back in the room. Mac stood next to Ocenir, doctoring his ear with a human first aid kit that had been lying around. "Wonder what made him do that?" the ginger tom said aloud, dabbing some antiseptic on the ear.  
  
Ocenir winced. "Careful!"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
The patched tom sighed. "Alta's pregnant."  
  
Mac paused. "Excuse me?"  
  
"That's what caused him to act like that. It broke through the hypnotism, he could feel it. We're going to have to keep him locked up, and he isn't going to be any use, really....he's going to fight."  
  
"Remind me what the point in keeping him here at all is again?"  
  
"Revenge."  
  
  
  
Alta sat on the hood of the car once again, this time alone, watching the sunset. It was the third day since Engle had gone to see Macavity about Ocenir, and he had yet to return. She feared for the worst, but in her heart she knew him to be alive.  
  
She heard someone coming and didn't even bother to turn her eyes as the same feline sat beside her. "Hey, Munkus," she said blandly.  
  
"Hey, Taica."  
  
"Something you need?"  
  
Munkustrap shifted slightly. "Well, something Jellylorum said today got me thinking."  
  
Alta raised an eyebrow. "There's a first. You thinking."  
  
Munkus laughed slightly. "Well, she mentioned something that I thought you should know about."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Well, she was on one of her tangents about all of us as kittens, and she mentioned something to me that seemed odd."  
  
"And that was?"  
  
"Well, she said that when I was born, I had a sister in the same litter as me. A twin."  
  
"Twin?" Alta asked, vaguely interested.  
  
"Of sorts. Jelly said that she had been a tabby too, white instead of silver, blue eyes instead of green, and smaller."  
  
"So what happened to her?" Alta said, completely interested now.   
  
"Well, she got owners and the owners moved to...."  
  
"Lemme guess. America?"  
  
Munkus raised his eyebrows. "Right in one."  
  
"So I'm your twin. According to Jellylorum, that is."  
  
"Pretty much."  
  
"....Wow." Alta said, completely bewildered as she hugged Munkus gently. "Wait a minute, doesn't this mean that I can tell you stuff and you can't tell aaaaanyone else?"  
  
Munkus winced. "Basically."  
  
"Good. I need someone to blab to."  
  
Munkus glanced around. "Don't you have Engle for that?"  
  
"Not right now. Remember how I told you about Ruffles seeing Ocenir?"  
  
".....yeeeeees?"  
  
"Engle went to Macavity's apartment three days ago to check out the situation and hasn't been seen since," Alta said, her voice breaking.  
  
Munkus bit his lip and breathed slowly. "Is that all?"  
  
"Not exactly...." Alta said, crying fully now.  
  
"Munkus turned to her. "What is it that's so horrible?"  
  
"It's not horrible, not exactly.....Munkus, I'm pregnant....and he isn't even here, and I don't know if he'll ever be again!"  
  
Munkustrap wrinkled his nose. "We're going to have to go and get him, you know. Or at least try."  
  
"There's more."  
  
"What NOW?"  
  
Alta cast her eyes downward. "I have reason to believe that Ocenir was controlling Engle all along. Don't ask me HOW I know," she said, shooting Munkus a look to kill when he opened his mouth. "I just do. Engle's still alive, for the moment, and that's the feeling that I've been getting from him."  
  
The silver tabby sighed, but before he could say anything, Ruffles and Truffles showed up, glaring at Munkustrap.  
  
"What iz y'all doing to make ouah auntie Altie cry, y'all?" Truffles asked suspiciously.  
  
"We don't like people who make ouah auntie Altie cry," Ruffles said menacingly, hands on hips.  
  
Altaica laughed. "It's alright, you two..."  
  
"You suuuuuuure, Auntie Altie?" Truffles asked while Ruffles glared at Munkustrap. Munkus gulped nervously.  
  
"Alta, call off your...kits."  
  
Alta looked at him, the same gleam showing in her eyes. "Now, why would I want to do THAT?"  
  
"Because...I'm...the twin you never knew you had?"  
  
Alta laughed. "Honestly, Munk, what are siblings for?" she turned to Ruffles. "Get him, you two."  
  
"Altaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" was Munkustrap's cry as he headed for the hills, the twins in pursuit.   
  
Alta laughed heartily as she trailed after at a more sedate pace. However, she glanced in the direction of Macavity's apartment, wishing that Engle was with her.  



End file.
